of  California 
i  Regional 
Facility 


/A      fj 


JOSEPH   A XI)   HIS  FRIEND 


K  $tori)  of  pennsjjluama. 


BY 

BAYARD   TAYLOR. 


The  better  angel  is  a  man  right  fair : 
The  worser  spirit  a  woman  coloured  ill. 

SHAKSPEABE:  Sonnets. 


NEW  YORK : 
G.    P.    PUTNAM    &    SONS, 

FOURTH     AVENUE    AND    TWENTY-THIRD    STREET. 

LONDON: 
S.  Low,  SON  &  MARSTON. 

1870. 


CONTEXTS. 


PAOK 

I.  Joseph 1 

II.   Miss  Blessing , 11 

III.  The  Place  and  People 22 

IV.  Miss  Blessing-  calls  on  Pwachel  Miller 31 

V.  Ehvood's  Evening,  and  Joseph's 43 

VI.  In  the  Garden 53 

VII.  The  Blessing  Family GG 

VIII.  A  Consultation 81 

IX.  Joseph  and  his  Friend 89 

X.  Approaching  Fate 101 

XI.  A  City  Wedding 11B 

XII.  Clouds 123 

XIII.  Presentiments 133 

XIV.  The  Amaranth 142 

XV.   A  Dinner  Party 155 


VI  COXTKXTS. 

TAGK 

XVI.   Joseph's  Trouble,   and  Philip's 1<>8 

XVII.    A  Storm 1 70 

XVlit.    On  the  KiuLroad  Track 190 

XIX.  Tlie  '•  Wharf-nit  " 201 

XX.  A  Crisis 208 

XXI.   Under  the  Water 218 

XXII.  Kanuck 2:51 

XXIII.  Julia's  Experiment   243 

XXIV.  Fate , . .  253 

XXV.   The  Mourners 268 

XXVI.  The  Accusation 280 

XXVII.  The  Labels 290 

XXVIII.  The  Trial 303 

XXIX.  New  Evidence 315 

XXX.  Mr.  Blessing's  Testimony 325 

XXXI.  Beginning  another  Life 837 

XXXII.  Letters— I.  Joseph  to  Philip 348 

XXXIII.  All  are  Happy , .  357 


JOSEPH  AXD  HIS  FEIEXD. 


CHAPTER  I. 


RACHEL  MILLER  was  not  a  little  surprised  when  her  nephew 
Joseph  came  to  the  supper-table,  not  from  the  direction  of 
the  barn  and  throiigh  the  kitchen,  as  usual,  but  from  the 
back  room  up  stairs,  where  he  slept.  His  work-day  dress 
had  disappeared ;  he  wore  his  best  Sunday  suit,  put  on  with 
unusual  care,  and  there  were  faint  pomatum  odors  in  the  air 
when  he  sat  down  to  the  table. 

Her  face  said — and  she  knew  it — as  plain  as  any  words, 
"  What  in  the  world  does  this  mean  ?  "  Joseph,  she  saw, 
endeavored  to  look  as  though  coming  down  to  supper  in  that 
costume  were  his  usual  habit ;  so  she  poured  out  the  tea  in 
silence.  Her  silence,  however,  was  eloquent  ;  a  hundred 
interrogation-marks  would  not  have  expressed  its  import ; 
and  Dennis,  the  hired  man,  who  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table,  experienced  very  much  the  same  apprehension  of  some- 
thing forthcoming,  as  when  he  had  killed  her  favorite  speckled 
hen  by  mistake. 

Before  the  meal  was  over,  the  tension  between  Joseph  and 

his  aunt  had  so  increased  by  reason  of  their  mutual  silence, 
1 


thai  it  was  very  awkward  and  oppressive  to  both  ;  yet 
neither  knew  how  to  break  it  easily.  There  is  always  a  great 
deal  of  unnecessary  reticence  in  the  intercourse  of  country 
people,  and  in  the  case  of  those  two  it  had  been  specially 
strengthened  by  the  want  of  every  relationship  except  that 
of  blood.  They  were  quite  ignorant  of  the  fence,  the  easy 
thrust  and  parry  of  society,  where  talk  becomes  an  art ; 
silence  or  the  bhmtcst  utterance  were  their  alternatives,  and 
now  the  one  had  neutralized  the  other.  Both  felt  this,  and 
Dennis,  in  his  dull  way,  felt  it  too.  Although  not  a  party 
concerned,  he  was  uncomfortable,  yet  also  internally  con- 
scious of  a  desire  to  laugh. 

The  resolution  of  the  crisis,  however,  came  by  his  aid. 
When  the  meal  was  finished  and  Joseph  betook  himself  to 
the  window,  awkwardly  drumming  upon  the  pane,  while  his 
aunt  gathered  the  plates  and  cups  together,  delaying  to  re- 
move them  as  was  her  wont,  Dennis  said,  with  his  hand  on 
the  door-knob:  "Shall  I  saddle  the  horse  right  off?" 

"  I  guess  so,"  Joseph  answered,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. 

Rachel  paused,  with  the  two  silver  spoons  in  her  hand. 
Joseph  was  still  drumming  upon  the  window,  but  with  very 
irregular  taps.  The  door  closed  upon  Dennis. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  with  singular  calmness,  "  a  body  is  not 
bound  to  dress  particularly  fine  for  watching,  though  1 
would  as  soon  show  him  that  much  respect,  if  need  be,  as 
anybody  else.  Don't  forget  to  ask  Maria  if  there 's  any- 
thing I  can  do  for  her." 

Joseph  turned  around  with  a  start,  a  most  innocent  sur- 
prise on  his  face. 

"  Why,  aunt,  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  You  are  not  going  to  Warne's  to  watch  ?     They  have 


nearer  neighbors,  to  be  sure,  but  wh^n  a  man  dies,  pvery- 
hodv  is  free  to  oiler  their  services,  lie  was  ahvays  strong  in 
the  faith." 

Joseph  knew  that  he  was  oaucrht,  without  suspecting  her 
manoeuvre.  A  brighter  color  ran  over  his  face,  up  to  the 
roots  of  his  hair.  "  VThy,  no  !  "  lie  exclaimed  ;  ';  I  am  going 
to  Warriners  to  spend  the  evening.  There's  to  be  a  little 
company  there, — a  neighborly  gathering.  I  believe  it's 
been  talked  of  this  long  while,  but  I  was  only  invited  to- 
day. I  saw  Bob,  in  the  road-field." 

Rachel  endeavored  to  conceal  from  her  nephew's  eye  the 
immediate  impression  of  his  words.  A  constrained  smile 
passed  over  her  face,  and  was  instantly  followed  by  a  cheer- 
ful relief  in  his. 

"  Isn't  it  rather  a  strange  time  of  year  for  evening  par- 
ties ?  "  she  then  asked,  with  a  touch  of  severity  in  her 
voice. 

"  They  meant  to  have  it  in  cherry-time,  Bob  said,  when 
Anna's  visitor  had  come  from  town." 

"  That,  indeed  !  I  see  !  "  Rachel  exclaimed.  "  It's  to  be 
a  sort  of  celebration  for — what's-her-name  ?  Blessing,  I 
know, — but  the  other?  Anna  Wurriner  was  there  last 
Christmas,  and  I  don't  suppose  the  high  notions  are  out  of 
her  head  yet.  Well,  I  hope  it'll  be  some  time  before  they 
take  root  here  !  Peace  and  quiet,  peace  and  quiet,  that's 
been  the  token  of  the  neighborhood ;  but  town  ways  are  the 
reverse." 

"All  the  young  people  are  going,"  Joseph  mildly  sug- 
gested, "  and  so — " 

"  O,  I  don't  say  you  shouldn't  go,  this  time,"  Rachel  in- 
terrupted him ;  "  for  you  ought  to  be  able  to  judge  for  your- 
self what's  fit  and  proper,  and  what  is  not.  I  should  be  sorry, 


4:  JOSKPH    AND    HIS    FKIKXD. 

to  be  sure,  to  see  you  doing  anything  and  going  nnywhei-o 
that  would  make  your  mother  uneasy  if  she  were  living  now. 
It's  so  hard  to  be  conscientious,  and  to  mind  a  body's 
bouiiden  duty,  without  seeming  to  interfere." 

She  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  just  touched  the  corner  of 
her  apron  to  her  eyes.  The  mention  of  his  mother  always 
softened  Joseph,  and  in.  his  earnest  desire  to  live  so  that  his 
life  might  be  such  as  to  give  her  joy  if  she  could  share  it,  a 
film  of  doubt  spread  itself  over  the  smooth,  pure  surface  of 
his  mind.  A  vague  consciousness  of  his  inability  to  express 
himself  clearly  upon  the  question  without  seeming  to  slight 
her  memory  aiFected  his  thoughts. 

(t  But,  remember,  Aunt  Rachel,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  I  was 
not  old  enough,  then,  to  go  into  society.  She  surely  meant 
that  I  should  have  some  independence,  when  the  time  came. 
I  am  doing  no  more  than  all  the  young  men  of  the  neigh- 
borhood." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  know,"  she  replied,  in  a  melancholy  tone ; 
"  but  they've  got  used  to  it  by  degrees,  and  mostly  in  their 
own  homes,  and  with  sisters  to  caution  them  ;  whereas  you're 
younger  according  to  your  years,  and  innocent  of  the  ways 
and  wiles  of  men,  and — and  girls." 

Joseph  painfully  felt  that  this  last  assertion  was  true. 
Suppressing  the  impulse  to  exclaim,  "  Why  am  I  younger 
'  according  to  my  years  ? '  why  am  I  so  much  more  '  inno- 
cent'— which  is,  ignorant — than  others?"  he  blundered  out, 
with  a  little  display  of  temper,  "  Well,  how  am  I  ever  to 
learn?" 

"  By  patience,  and  taking  care  of  yourself.  There's  al- 
ways safety  in  waiting.  I  don't  mean  you  shouldn't  go  this 
evening,  since  you've  promised  it,  and  made  yourself  smart. 
But,  mark  my  words,  this  is  only  the  beginning.  The  season 


makes  no  difference  ;  townspeople,  never  scorn  to  know  that 
there's  such  things  as  hay-harvest  and  corn  to  be  worked. 
They  come  out  fur  merry-makings  in  the  busy  time,  ;uid 
\vant  us  country  folks  to  give  up  everything  for  their  pleasure. 
The  tired  plough-horses  must  be  geared  up  for  'em,  and  the 
cows  wait  an  hour  or  two  longer  to  be  milked  while  they're 
driving  around  ;  and  the  chickens  killed  half-grown,  and  the 
washing  and  baking  put  oil'  when  it  comes  in  their  wav. 
They're  mighty  nice  and  friendly  while  it  lasts  ;  but  go  back 
to  'em  in  town,  six  months  afterwards,  and  see  whether 
they'll  so  much  as  ask  you  to  take  a  meal's  victuals  !  " 

Joseph  began  to  laugh.  "  It  is  not  likely,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  shall  ever  go  to  the  Blessings  for  a  meal,  or  that  this  Miss 
Julia — as  they  call  her — will  ever  interfere  with  our  har- 
vesting or  milking." 

"  The  airs  they  put  on  !  "  Rachel  continued.  "  She'll 
very  likely  think  that  she's  doing  you  a  favor  by  so  much  as 
speaking  to  you.  "When  the  Bishops  had  boarders,  two  years 
ago,  one  of  'em  said, — Maria  told  me  with  her  own  mouth, 
— '  Why  don't  all  the  farmers  follow  your  example  ?  It 
would  be  so  refining  for  them  ! '  They  may  be  very  well  in 
their  place,  but,  for  my  part,  I  should  like  them  to  stay 
there." 

"  There  comes  the  horse,"  said  Joseph.  "  I  must  be  on 
the  way.  I  expect  to  meet  Elwood  Withers  at  the  lane-end. 
But — about  waiting,  Aunt — you  hardly  need — " 

"  O,  yes,  I'll  wait  for  you,  of  course.  Ten  o'clock  is  nob 
so  very  late  for  me." 

"  It  might  be  a  little  after,"  he  suggested. 

"  Not  much,  I  hope  ;  but  if  it  should  be  daybreak,  wait 
I  will !  Your  mother  couldn't  expect  less  of  me." 

When  Joseph  whirled  into  the  saddle,  the  thought  of  his 


C  JO^Kl'II    AND    HIS    FUIKNn. 

aunt,  grimly  waiting  for  his  return,  was  already  perched 
like  an  imp  on  the  crupper,  and  clung  to  his  sides  with  claws 
of  steel.  She,  looking  through  the  window,  also  felt  that  it 
was  so  ;  and,  much  relieved,  went  back  to  her  household 
duties. 

He  rode  very  slowly  down  the  lane,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground.  There  was  a  rich  orange  ilush  of  sunset  on  the 
hills  across  the  valley  ;  masses  of  burning  cumuli  hung,  self- 
suspended,  above  the  farthest  woods,  and  such  depths  of 
purple-gray  opened  beyond  them  as  are  wont  to  rouse  tho 
slumbering  fancies  and  hopes  of  a  young  man's  heart ;  but 
the  beauty  and  fascination  and  suggestiveness  of  the  hour 
could  not  lift  his  downcast,  absorbed  glance.  At  last  his 
horse,  stopping  suddenly  at  the  gate,  gave  a  whinny  of  re- 
cognition, which  was  answered. 

El  wood  "Withers  laughed.  "  Can  you  tell  me  where 
Joseph  Asten  lives?  "lie  cried, — "an  old  man,  very  much 
bowed  and  bent." 

Joseph  also  laughed,  with  a  blush,  as  he  met  the  other's 
strong,  friendly  face.  "  There  is  plenty  of  time,"  he  said, 
leaning  over  his  horse's  neck  and  lifting  the  latch  of  the  gate. 

"  All  right ;  but  you  must  noAv  wake  up.  You're  spruce 
enough  to  make  a  figure  to-night." 

"  O,  no  doubt !  "  Joseph  gravely  answered ;  "  but  what 
kind  of  a  figure  ?  " 

"  Some  people,  I've  heard  say,"  said  Elwood,  "  may  look 
into  their  looking-glass  every  day,  and  never  know  how  they 
look.  If  you  appeared  to  yourself  as  you  appear  to  me,  you 
wouldn't  ask  such  a  question  as  that." 

"  If  I  could  only  not  think  of  myself  at  all,  Elwood, — if 
I  could  be  as  unconcerned  as  you  are — " 

"  But  I'm  not,  Joseph,  my  boy ! "  Elwood  interrupted, 


.TOSKl'JI    AM)    JI1-     FL11KNJ).  7 

riding  nearer  and  laying  a  han-l  on  his  friend's  shoulder.  "I 
tell  von,  it  weakens  my  very  marrow  to  walk  into  a  room 
full  o'  girls,  even,  though  I  know  every  one  of  'em.  They 
know  it,  too,  and,  shy  and  quiet  as  they  seem,  they're  1111- 
mereiful.  There  tliey  sit,  all  looking  so  different,  somehow, 
— even  a  fellow's  own  sisters  and  cousins, — lilling  up  all 
sides  of  the  room,  rustling  a  little  and  whispering  a  little,  but 
you  feel  that  every  one  of  'em  has  her  eyes  on  you,  and 
would  be  so  glad  to  see  you  ilustered.  There's  no  help  for 
it,  though;  we've  got  to  grow  case-hardened  to  that  much,  or 
how  ever  could  a  man  get  married  ?  " 

"  Elwood  !  "  Joseph  asked,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  were 
you  ever  in  love  ?  " 

"  Well," — and  Elwood  pulled  up  his  horse  in  surprise, — 
"well,  you  do  come  out  plump.  You  take  the  breath  out  of 
my  body.  Have  I  been  in  love  ?  Have  I  committed  murder  ? 
One's  about  as  deadly  a  secret  as  the  other  !  " 

The  two  looked  each  other  in  the  face.  Elwood's  eyes 
answered  the  question,  but  Joseph's, — large,  shy,  and  utterly 
innocent, — could  not  read  the  answer. 

"It's  easy  to  see  you've  never  been,"  said  the  former, 
dropping  his  voice  to  a  grave  gentleness.  "  If  I  should  say 
Yes,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Then,  how  do  you  know  it, — I  mean,  how  did  you  first 
begin  to  find  it  out  ?  What  is  the  difference  between  that 
and  the  feeling  you  have  towards  any  pleasant  girl  whom  you 
like  to  be  with  ?  " 

"  All  the  difference  in  the  world  !  "  Elwood  exclaimed  with 
energy ;  then  paused,  and  knitted  his  brows  with  a  perplex- 
ed air ;  "  but  I'll  be  shot  if  I  know  exactly  what  else  to 
say;  I  never  thought  of  it  before.  How  do  I  know  that  I 
am  Elwood  Withers?  It  geems  just  as  plain  as  that, — and 


8  josMj'ii  .AND  in*  Fi:rr:_\ix 

yet — well,  for  one  tiling,  she's  always  in  your  mind,  and  you 
think  and  dream  of  just  nothing  but  her;  and  you'd  rather 
have  the  hem  of  her  dress  touch  you  than  kiss  anybody  else  ; 
and  you  want  to  be  near  her,  and  to  have  her  ail  to  yourself, 
yet  it's  hard  work  to  speak  a  sensible  word  to  her  when  you 
come  together, — but,  what's  the  use  ?•  A  fellow  must  feel  it 
himself,  as  they  say  of  experiencing  religion;  he  must  get 
converted,  or  he'll  never  know.  Now,  1  don't  suppose 
you've  understood  a  word  of  what  I've  said  !  " 

"Yes!"  Joseph  answered;  "indeed,  I  think  so.  It's 
only  an  increase  of  what  we  all  feel  towards  some  persons. 
I  have  been  hoping,  latterly,  that  it  might  come  to  me,  but — 
but—" 

"  But  your  time  will  come,  like  every  man's,"  said  El- 
wood  ;  "  and,  maybe,  sooner  than  you  think.  When  it  does, 
you  won't  need  to  ask  anybody ;  though  I  think  you're 
bound  to  tell  me  of  it,  after  pumping  my  own  secret  out  of 
me." 

Joseph  looked  grave. 

"  Never  mind ;  I  wasn't  obliged  to  let  you  have  it.  I 
know  you're  close-mouthed  and  honest-hearted,  Joseph ;  but 
I'll  never  ask  your  confidence  unless  you  can  give  it  as  freely 
as  I  give  mine  to  you." 

"  You  shall  have  it,  Elwood,  if  my  time  ever  comes.  And 
I  can't  help  wishing  for  the  time,  although  it  may  not  be 
right.  You  know  how  lonely  it  is  on  the  farm,  and  yet  it's 
not  always  easy  for  me  to  get  away  into  company.  Aunt 
Rachel  stands  in  mother's  place  to  me,  and  maybe  it's  only 
natural  that  she  should  be  over-concerned ;  any  way,  seeing 
what  she  has  done  for  my  sake,  I  am  hindered  from  oppos- 
ing her  wishes  too  stubbornly.  Now,  to-night,  my  goinw 
didn't  seem  right  to  her,  and  I  shall  not  get  it  out  of  my 


9 

mind  that  she  is  availing  up,  and  perhaps  fretting,  ou  my 
account." 

'•'A  vounc:  fellow  of  vour  n^'e   mustn't  be  so  tender,"  El- 

„  O  •• 

wood  said.  ''If  you  had  your  own  father  raid  mother, 
thevM  allow  you  more  of  a  rung.1.  Look  at  me,  with  mine  ! 
Why,  I  never  us  much  as  say  'by  your  leave.'  Quite  the 
contrary;  so  long  as  the  work  isn't  .slighted,  they're  rather 
glad  than  not  to  have  me  go  out ;  and  the  house  is  twice  as 
lively  since  I  bring  so  much  fresh  gus.-.ip  into  it.  But  then, 
I've  had  a  rougher  bringing  up." 

"  I  wish  I  had  had  !  "  cried  Joseph.  "  Yet,  no,  when  I 
think  of  mother,  it  is  wrong  to  say  just  that.  "What  I 
mean  is,  I  wish  I  could  take  things  as  easily  as  you, — make 
my  way  boldly  in  the  world,  without  being  held  back  by 
trifles,  or  getting  so  confused  with  all  sorts  of  doubts.  The 
more  anxious  I  am  to  do  right,  the  more  embarrassed  I  am  to 
know  what  is  the  right  thing.  I  don't  believe  yon  have  any 
such  troubles." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,  I  do  about  as  other  fellows ;  no 
worse,  I  guess,  and  likely  no  better.  You  must  consider, 
also,  that  I'm  a  bit  rougher  made,  besides  the  bringing  \ip, 
and  that  makes  a  deal  of  difference.  I  don't  try  to  make 
the  scales  balance  to  a  grain ;  if  there's  a  handful  under  or 
over,  I  think  it's  near  enough.  However,  you'll  be  all  right 
in  a  while.  When  you  find  the  right  girl  and  marry  her, 
it'll  put  a  new  face  on  to  you.  There's  nothing  like  a  sharp, 
wide-awake  wife,  so  they  say,  to  set  a  man  straight.  Don't 
make  a  mountain  of  anxiety  out  of  a  little  molehill  of  inex- 
perience. I'd  take  all  your  doubts  and  more,  I'm  sure,  if  I 
could  get  such  a  two-hundred-acre  farm  with  them." 

"  Do  you  know,"   cried   Joseph  eagerly,   his   blue  eyes 

flashing  thi-ougk  the  gathering  dusk,  "  I  have  often  thought 
1* 


10  .TOSKI'II    AND    JUS    FIUKXD. 

very  nearly  the  .sumo  thing  !  ]f  I  wore  to  love, — if  I  wore 
to  marry — 

"liu.sh!"  interrupted  Ehvood ;  "I  know  you  don't 
mean,  others  to  hear  you.  Here  come  two  down  the 
branch  road." 

The  horsemen,  neighboring  farmers'  sons,  joined  them. 
They  rode  together  up  the  knoll  towards  the  AVarriner 
mansion,  the  lights  of  which  glimmered  at  intervals  through 
the  trees.  The  gate  was  open,  and  a  dozen  vehicles  could 
be  seen  in  the  enclosure  between  the  house  and  barn.  Bright, 
gliding  forms  were  visible  on  the  portico. 

"  Just  see,"  whispered  Ehvood  to  Joseph  ;  "  what  a  lot  of 
posy-colors  !  You  may  be  sure  they're  every  one  watching 
us.  ISTo  flinching,  mind ;  straight  to  the  charge  !  We'll 
walk  up  together,  and  it  won't  be  half  as  hard  for  you." 


11 


CHAPTER  IT 


To  consider  the  evening  party  at  ~\V  arriner's  a  scene  of 
"dissipation" — as  some  of  the  good  old  people  of  the  neigh- 
borhood undoubtedly  did — \vas  about  as  absurd  as  to  call 
butter-milk  an  intoxicating  beverage.  Anything  more 
simple  and  innocent  could  not  well  be  imagined.  The  very 
awkwardness  which  everybody  felt,  and  which  no  one  ex- 
actly knew  how  to  overcome,  testified  of  virtuous  ignorance. 
The  occasion  was  no  more  than  sufficed,  for  the  barest  need 
of  human  nature.  Young  men  and  women  must  come  to- 
gether for  acquaintance  and  the  possibilities  of  love,  and, 
fortunately,  neither  labor  nor  the  severer  discipline  of  their 
elders  can  prevent  them. 

Where  social  recreation  thus  only  exists  under  discourag- 
ing conditions,  ease  and  grace  and  self-possession  cannot  be 
expected.  Had  there  been  more  form,  in  fact,  there  would 
have  been  more  ease.  A  conventional  disposition  of  the 
guests  would  have  reduced  the  loose  elements  of  the  com- 
pany to  some  sort  of  order ;  the  shy  country  nature  would 
have  taken  refuge  in  fixed  laws,  and  found  a  sense  of  free- 
dom therein.  But  there  were  no  generally  understood  rules ; 
the  young  people  were  brought  together,  delighted  yet  im- 
comfortable,  craving  yet  shrinking  from  speech  and  jest  and 
song,  and  painfully  working  their  several  isolations  into  a 
warmer  common  atmosphere. 

On  this   occasion,  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  and  that 


12  jo>r.i'ii  AXJJ  ins  nrn:.vi>. 

stranger  a  lady,  and  thai  lady  a  visitor  {Vc,ia  the  ciiy,  wns 
fiu  additional  restraint.  The  dread  of  a  critical  eye  is  most 
keenly  felt  by  those  who  secretly  acknowledge  their  o\vu 
lack  of  social  accomplishment.  Anna  "\Vurriner,  to  be  sure, 
had  been,  loud  in  her  praises  of  "  dear  Julia,"  and  the  guests 
were  prepared  to  find  all  possible  beauty  and  sweetness;  but 
they  expected,  none  the  less,  to  be  scrutinized  and  judged. 

Bob  Warriner  met  bis  friends  at  the  gate  and  conducted 
them  to  the  parlor,  whither  the  young  ladies,  who  had  been 
watching  the  arrival,  had  retreated.  They  were  disposed 
along  the  walls,  silent  and  cool,  except  Miss  Blessing,  who 
occupied  a  rocking-chair  in  front  of  the  mantel-piece,  where 
her  figure  was  in  half-shadow,  the  lamplight  only  touching 
some  roses  in  her  hair.  As  the  gentlemen  were  presented, 
she  lifted  her  face  and  smiled  upon  each,  graciously  offering 
a  slender  hand.  In  manner  and  attitude,  as  in  dress,  she 
seemed  a  different  being  from  the  plump,  ruddy,  self-con- 
scious girls  011  the  sofas.  Her  dark  hair  fell  about  her  neck 
in  long,  shining  ringlets ;  the  fairness  of  her  face  heightened 
the  brilliancy  of  her  eyes,  the  lids  of  which  were  slightly 
drooped  as  if  kindly  veiling  their  beams ;  and  her  lips,  although 
thin,  were  very  sweetly  and  delicately  curved.  Her  dress,  of 
some  white,  foamy  texture,  hung  about  her  like  a  trailing 
cloud,  and  the  cluster  of  rosebuds  on  her  bosom  lay  as  if 
tossed  there. 

The  young  men,  spruce  as  they  had  imagined  themselves 
to  be,  suddenly  felt  that  their  clothes  were  coarse  and  ill-fit- 
ting, and  that  the  girls  of  the  neighborhood,  in  their  neat 
gingham  and  muslin  dresses,  were  not  quite  so  airy  and 
charming  as  on  former  occasions.  Miss  Blessing,  descending 
to  them  out  of  an  unknown  higher  sphere,  made  their  defi- 
ciencies xmwelcomely  evident;  she  attracted  and  fascinated 


jo.-iii'ii  AXD  IKS  n;rKxn.  13 

them,  yec  was  none  the  lo.->s  a  disturbing  ini'hience.  They  made 
husi-e  to  iliid  seats,  after  which  a  constrained  Silence  followed. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  of-  .Miss  Blessing's  amiable 
nature.  >She  looked  about  with  a  pleasant  expression,  half 
smik-d — but  deprecatingly,  us  if  to  say,  ';  i'ray,  don't  be 
oii'i'iuled!" — at  tin;  awkward  silence,  and  then  said,  in  a 
clear,  carefully  modulated  voice:  "It  is  beautiful  to  arrive 
at  twilight,  but  how  charming  it  must  be  to  ride  home  in 
the  moonlight;  so  different  from  our  lamps  !  •' 

The  guests  looked  at  each  other,  but  as  she  had  seemed  to 
address  no  one  in.  particular,  so  each  hesitated,  and  there 
was  no  immediate  reply. 

"  But  is  it  not  awful,  tell  me,  Elizabeth,  when  you  get 
into  the  shadows  of  the  forests  ?  we  are  so  apt  to  associate  all 
sorts  of  unknown  dangers  with,  forests,  you  know,"  she  con- 
tinued. 

The  young  lady  thus  singled  out  made  haste  to  answer  : 
"  O,  no  !  I  rather  like  it,  when  I  have  company." 

El  wood  Withers  laughed.  "  To  be  sure  !  "  he  exclaimed  ; 
"  the  shade  is  full  of  opportunities." 

Then  there  were  little  shrieks,  and  some  giggling  and 
blushing.  Miss  Blessing  shook  her  fan  warningly  at  the 
speaker. 

"  How  wicked  in  you  !  I  hope  you  will  have  to  ride 
home  alone  to-night,  after  that  speech.  But  you  are  all 
courageous,  compared  with  us.  We  are  really  so  restricted 
in  the  city,  that  it's  a  wonder  we  have  any  independence  at 
all.  In  many  ways,  we  are  like  children." 

"  O  Julia,  dear ! "  protested  Anna  Warriner,  "  and  such 
advantages  as  you  have  !  I  shall  never  forget  the  day  Mrs. 
Rockaway  called — her  husband's  cashier  of  the  Commercial 
Bank"  (this  was  said  in  a  parenthesis  to  the  other  guests) — 


1J:  JOSEPH    AND    JIJ3    FUIKM). 

"  and  brought  you  all  the  news  direct  from  head-quarters, 
as  she  said." 

"  Yes,"  Miss  Blessing  answered,  slowly,  casting  down  her 
eyes,  "there  must  be  two  sides  to  everything,  of  course  ;  but 
how  much  we  miss  until  we  know  the  country  !  lleally,  I 
quite  envy  you." 

Joseph  had  found  himself,  almost  before  he  knew  it,  in  a 
corner,  beside  Lucy  Henderson.  He  felt  soothed  and  happy, 
for  of  all  the  girls  present  he  liked  Lucy  best.  In  the  few 
meetings  of  the  young  people  which  he  had  attended,  he  had 
been  drawn  towards  her  by  an  instinct  founded,  perhaps,  on 
his  shyness  and  the  consciousness  of  it;  for  she  alone  had 
the  power,  by  a  few  kindly,  simple  words,  to  set  him  at  ease 
with  himself.  The  straightforward  glance  of  her  large  brown 
eyes  seemed  to  reach  the  self  below  the  troubled  surface. 
However  much  his  ears  might  have  tingled  afterwards,  as 
he  recalled  how  frankly  and  freely  he  had  talked  with  her, 
he  could  only  remember  the  expression  of  an  interest  equally 
frank,  upon  her  face.  She  never  dropped  one  of  those 
amused  side-glances,  or  uttered  one  of  those  pert,  satirical 
remarks,  the  recollection  of  which  in  other  girls  stung  him 
to  the  quick. 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted,  for  when  Miss  Bless- 
ing spoke,  the  others  became  silent.  What  Elwood  Withers 
had  said  of  the  phenomena  of  love,  however,  lingered  in 
Joseph's  mind,  and  he  began,  involuntarily,  to  examine  the 
nature  of  his  feeling  for  Lucy  Henderson.  Was  she  not 
often  in  his  thoughts  ?  He  had  never  before  asked  himself 
the  question,  but  now  he  suddenly  became  conscious  that 
the  hope  of  meeting  her,  rather  than  any  curiosity  concern- 
ing Miss  Blessing,  had  drawn  him  to  Warriner's.  Would 
he  rather  touch  the  edge  of  her  dress  than  kiss  anybody  else? 


JOSI:IMI   AND  ins  FI:U::\D.  15 

That  question  drew  his  eyes  to  her  lips,  and  with  a  soft 
shook  of  the  heart,  he  became  aware  of  their  freshness  and 
sweetness  as  never  before.  To  touch  the  edge  of  her  dress! 
Elwood  had  said  nothing  of  the  lovelier  and  bolder  desire 
Avhich  brought  the  bluod  swiftly  to  his  cheeks,  lie  could 
not  help  it  that  their  glances  met, — a  moment  only,  but  an 
unmeasured  time  of  delight  and  fear  to  him,— and  then  Lucy 
quickly  turned  away  her  head.  He  fancied  there  was  a 
heightened  color  on  her  face,  but  when,  she  spoke  to  him  a 
few  minutes  afterwards  it  was  gone,  and  .she  was  as  calm 
and  composed  as  before. 

In  the  mean  time  there  had  been  other  arrivals ;  and 
Joseph  was  presently  called  upon,  to  give  up  his  place  to 
some  ladies  from  the  neighboring  town.  Many  invitations 
had  been  issued,  and  the  capacity  of  the  parlor  was  soon  ex- 
hausted. Then  the  sounds  of  merry  chat  on  the  portico 
invaded  the  stately  constraint  of  the  room ;  and  Miss  Bless- 
ing, rising  gracefully  and  not  too  rapidly,  laid  her  hands  to- 
gether and  entreated  Anna  Warriner, — 

"  O,  do  let  us  go  outside  !  I  think  we  are  well  enough 
acquainted  now  to  sit  on  the  steps  together." 

She  made  a  gesture,  slight  but  irresistibly  inviting,  and 
all  arose.  While  they  were  cheerfully  pressing  out  through 
the  hall,  she  seized  Anna's  arm  and  drew  her  back  into  the 
dusky  nook  under  the  staircase. 

"  Quick,  Anna ! "  she  whispered  ;  "  who  is  the  roguish 
one  they  call  Elwood  ?  What  is  he  ?  " 

"  A  farmer ;  works  his  father's  place  on  shares." 

"  Ah  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Blessing,  in  a  peculiar  tone ; 
"  and  the  blue-eyed,  handsome  one,  who  came  in  with  him  ? 
He  looks  almost  like  a  boy." 

"  Joseph  Asten  ?     Why,  he's  twenty-two  or  three.     He 


10  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIKXD. 

has  OHO  of  the  finest  properties  in  the  neighborhood,  find 
money  besides,  they  say;  lives  alone,  with  an  old  dragon  of 
an  annt  MS  housekeeper.  Now,  Julia  dear,  there's  a  chance 
for  you  !  " 

"  Pshaw,  you  silly  Anna  ! "  whispered  Miss  Blessing, 
playfully  pinching  her  ear  ;  "  you  know  I  prefer  intellect  to 
wealth." 

"  As  for  that" — Anna  began,  but  her  friend  was  already 
dancing  down  the  hall  towards  the  front  door,  her  gossamer 
skirts  puffing  and  floating  out  until  they  brushed  the  walls 
on  either  side.  She  hummed  to  herself,  "  O  Night !  O  lovely 
Night ! "  from  the  Desert,  skimmed  over  the  doorstep,  and 
sank,  subsiding  into  an  ethereal  heap,  against  one  of  the  pil- 
lars of  the  portico.  Her  eyelids  were  now  fully  opened,  and 
the  pupils,  the  color  of  which  could  not  be  distinguished  in 
the  moonlight,  seemed  wonderfully  clear  and  brilliant. 

"  Now,  Mr.  El  wood — O,  excuse  me,  I  mean  Mr.  Withers," 
she  began,  "you  must  repeat  your  joke  for  my  benefit.  I 
missed  it,  and  I  feel  so  foolish  when  I  can't  laugh  with  the 
rest." 

Anna  Warriner,  standing  in  the  door,  opened  her  eyes 
very  wide  at  what  seemed  to  her  to  be  the  commencement 
of  a  flirtation ;  but  before  Elwood  Withers  could  repeat  his 
rather  stupid  fun,  she  was  summoned  to  the  kitchen  by  her 
mother,  to  superintend  the  preparation  of  the  refreshments. 

Miss  Blessing  made  her  hay  while  the  moon  shone.  She 
so  entered  into  the  growing  spirit  of  the  scene  and  accom- 
modated herself  to  the  speech  and  ways  of  the  guests,  that 
in  half  an  hour  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  always  known  her. 
She  laughed  with  their  merriment,  and  flattered  their  senti- 
ment with  a  tender  ballad  or  two,  given  in  a  veiled  but  not 
unpleasant  voice,  and  constantly  appealed  to  their  good- 


nature  1-v  tlio  phrase:  '''Pray,  don't  mind  me  at  all;  I'm 
like  u  child  let  out  of  school  ! "'  Shi.'  tapped  Eii/abeth  Foi'g 
Oil  tht.'  .-hould'T,  stealthily  tickled  Jane  iLcXiuiglitoii's  neck 
wiili  a  grass-blade,  and  took  tho  roses  from  her  luiir  to  stick 
into  tin?  buttonholes  of  tin1  yon.ng  men. 

"  Ju-,t  see  Julia  !"  whi.-peivd  Anna  Warrinor  to  her  half- 
dozen  intim.uos ;  "  didn't  1  tell  you  ^he  AVU.S  the  life  of 
society  ?  " 

Jo.sopli  had  quite  lost  his  uncomfortable  sense  of  being 
watched  and  criticized  ;  he  enjoyed  the  unrestraint  of  the 
hour  as  much  as  the  rest.  He  was  rather  relieved  to  notice 
that  Elwood  Withers  seemed  uneasy,  and  almost  willing  to 
escape  from  the  lively  circle  around  Miss  Blessing.  By  and 
by  the  company  broke  into  smaller  groups,  and  Joseph  again 
found  himself  near  the  pale  pink  dress  which  he  knew. 
AYliat  was  it  that  separated  him  from  her  ?  What  had 
slipped  between  them  during  the  evening  ?  Nothing,  ap- 
parently ;  for  Lucy  Henderson,  perceiving  him,  quietly 
moved  nearer.  He  advanced  a  step,  and  they  were  side  by 
side. 

"  Do  you  enjoy  these  meetings,  Joseph?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  think  I  should  enjoy  everything,"  he  answered,  "if  I 
were  a  little  older,  or— or — " 

"  Or  more  accustomed  to  society  ?  Is  not  that  what  you 
meant  ?  It  is  only  another  kind  of  schooling,  which  we 
must  all  have.  You  and  I  are  in  the  lowest  class,  as  we 
once  were, — do  you  remember?  " 

"  I  don't  know  why,"  said  he,  "  — but  I  must  be  a  poor 
scholar.  See  Elwood,  for  instance  !  " 

"  Elwood  !  "  Lucy  slowly  repeated  ;  "  he  is  another  kind 
of  nature,  altogether." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.    Joseph  was  about  to  speak, 


18  JOSJ'l'II    AXD    UTS    FKIKXD. 

when  something  wonderfully  .soft  touched  las  cheek,  and  a 
delicate,  violet-like  odor  swept  upon  his  senses.  A  low,  mu- 
sical laugh  sounded  at  hi.s  very  cur. 

"There;!  Did  I  frighten  you?"  said  Miss  Blessing. 
She  had  stolen  behind  him,  and,  standing  on  tiptoe,  reached 
a  light  arm  over  his  shoulder,  to  fasten  her  last  rosebud  m 
the  upper  buttonhole  of  his  coat. 

"  I  tpjite  overlooked  you,  Mr.  Asten,"  she  continued. 
"  Please  turn  a  little  towards  me.  Xow  ! — has  it  not  a 
charming  effect  ?  I  do  like  to  see  some  kind  of  ornament 
about  the  gentlemen,  Lucy.  And  since  they  can't  wear 
anything  in  their  hair, — but,  tell  me,  wouldn't  a  wreath  of 
flowers  look  well  on  Mr.  Asten's  head  ?  " 

"  I  can't  very  well  imagine  such  a  thing,"  said  Lucy. 

"  No  ?  "Well,  perhaps  I  am  foolish  :  but  when  one  has  es 
caped  from  the  tiresome  conventionalities  of  city  life,  and 
conies  back  to  nature,  and  delightful  natural  society,  one 
feels  so  free  to  talk  and  think  !  Ah,  you  don't  know  what 
a  luxury  it  is,  just  to  be  one's  true  self !  " 

Joseph's  eyes  lighted  up,  and  he  turned  towards  Miss 
Blessing,  as  if  eager  that  she  should  continue  to  speak. 

"  Lucy,"  said  Elwood  Withers,  approaching  ;  "  you  came 
•with  the  MeNaughtons,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  are  they  going  ?  " 

"  They  are  talking  of  it  now ;  but  the  hour  is  early,  and 
if  you  don't  mind  riding  on  a  pillion,  you  know  my  horse 
is  gentle  and  strong — 

"  That's  right,  Mr.  Withers  ! "  interrupted  Miss  Blessing. 
"  I  depend  upon  you  to  keep  Lucy  with  us.  The  night  is  at 
its  loveliest,  and  we  are  all  just  fairly  enjoying  each  other's  so- 
ciety. As  I  was  saying,  Mr.  Asten,  you  cannot  conceive  what 
anew  world  this  is  to  me:  oh,  I  begin  to  breathe  at  last!" 


JOSF.PIl    AXL)    III3    I-M-JIEXI).  19 

Therewith  she  drew  a  long,  soft  inspiration,  and  gently 
exhaled  it  again,  ending  with  a  little  flutter  of  the  breath, 
which  made  it  seem  like  a  sigh.  A  light  laugh  followed. 

"  I  know,  without  looking  at  your  face,  that  you  are  smil- 
ing at  me,"  said  she.  "  But  you  have  never  experienced 
what  it  is  to  be  shy  and  uneasy  in  company ;  to  feel  that 
you  are  expected  to  talk,  and  not  know  what  to  say,  and 
when  you  do  say  something,  to  be  startled  at  the  sound  of 
your  voice  ;  to  stand,  or  walk,  or  sit,  and  imagine  that  every- 
body is  watching  you  ;  to  be  introduced  to  strangers,  and  be 
as  awkward  as  if  both  spoke  different  languages,  and  were 
unable  to  exchange  a  single  thought.  Here,  in  the  coun- 
try, you  experience  nothing  of  all  this." 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Blessing,"  Joseph  replied,  "  it  is  just  the 
same  to  us — to  me — as  city  society  is  to  you." 

"  How  glad  I  am  !  "  she  exclaimed,  clasping  her  hands. 
"  It  is  very  selfish  in  me  to  say  it,  but  I  can't  help  being  sincere 
towards  the  Sincere.  I  shall  now  feel  ever  so  much  more 
freedom  in  talking  with  you,  Mr.  Asten,  since  we  have  one 
experience  in  common.  Don't  you  think,  if  we  all  knew 
each  other's  natures  truly,  we  should  be  a  great  deal  more 
at  ease, — and  consequently  happier  ?  " 

She  spoke  the  last  sentence  in  a  low,  sweet,  penetrating 
tone,  lifted  her  face  to  meet  his  gaze  a  moment,  the  eyes 
large,  clear,  and  appealing  in  their  expression,  the  lips  part- 
ed like  those  of  a  child,  and  then,  without  waiting  for  his 
answer,  suddenly  darted  away,  crying,  "  Yes,  Anna  dear  !  " 

"  What  is  it,  Julia  ?  "  Anna  Warriner  asked. 

"  O,  didn't  you  call  me  ?  Somebody  surely  called  some 
Julia,  and  I'm  the  only  one,  am  I  not?  I've  just  arranged 
Mr.  Asten's  rosebud  so  prettily,  and  now  all  the  gentlemen 
are  decorated.  I'm  afraid  they  think  I  take  great  liberties 


20  .TOSKPII    AXD    IIIS    I'KIi:XI). 

for  a  stranger,  but  then,  you  till  make  me  forget  that  I  am 
strange.  "Why  is  it  that  everybody  is  so  good  to  me  V  " 

She  turned  her  face  upon  the  others  "with  a  radiant  ex- 
pression. Then  there  were  earnest  protestations  from  the 
young  men,  and  a  few  impulsive  hugs  from  the  girls,  which 
latter  Miss  Blessing  returned  with  kisses. 

El  wood  Withers  sat  beside  Lucy  Henderson,  on  the  steps  of 
the  portico.  "  Why,  we  owe  it  to  you  that  we're  here  to-night, 
Miss  Blessing  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  We  don't  come  together 
half  often  enough  as  it  is ;  and  what  better  could  we  do  than 
meet  again,  somewhere  else,  while  you  are  in  the  country?" 

"  O,  how  delightful  !  how  kind  ! '"  she  cried.  "And  while 
the  lovely  moonlight  lasts  !  Shall  I  really  have  another 
evening  like  this  ?  " 

The  proposition  was  heartily  seconded,  and  the  only  diffi- 
culty was,  how  to  choose  between  the  three  or  four  invita- 
tions which  were  at  once  proffered.  There  was  nothing  bet- 
ter to  do  than  to  accept  all,  in  turn,  and  the  young  people 
pledged  themselves  to  attend.  The  new  element  which  they 
had  dreaded  in  advance,  as  a  restraint,  had  shown  itself  to 
be  the  reverse :  they  had  never  been  so  free,  so  cheerfully 
excited.  Miss  Blessing's  unconscious  ease  of  manner,  her 
grace  and  sweetness,  her  quick,  bright  sympathy  with  coun- 
try ways,  had  so  warmed  and  fused  them,  that  they  lost  the 
remembrance  of  their  stubborn  selves  and  yielded  to  the 
magnetism  of  the  hour.  Their  manners,  moreover,  were 
greatly  improved,  simply  by  their  forgetting  that  they  were 
expected  to  have  any. 

Joseph  was  one  of  the  happiest  sharers  in  this  change. 
He  eagerly  gave  his  word  to  be  present  at  the  entertainments 
to  come  :  his  heartbeat  with  delight  at  the  prospect  of  other 
such  evenings.  The  suspicion  of  a  tenderer  feeling  towards 


josr-.rn  AND  ins  FRTKXXX  21 

JLucv    Henderson,    tlie  charm    of    Miss   Blessings  winning 

*  & 

frankness,  took  equal  possession  of  Ids  thoughts;  and  not 
until  he  had  said  good  night  did  he  think  of  his  companion 
on  the  homeward  road.  But  Ehvood  Withers  had  already 
left,  carrying  Luey  Henderson  on  a  pillion  behind  him. 

"Is  it  ten  o'clock,  do  yon  think?  "'  Joseph  asked  of  one 
of  the  young  men,  as  they  rode  out  of  the  gate. 

The  other  answered  with  a  chuckle  :  "Ten?  It's  nigher 
morning  than  evening  !  " 

The  imp  on  the  crupper  struck  Ids  claws  deep  into  Joseph's 
sides.  He  urged  his  horse  into  a  gallop,  crossed  the  long 
rise  in  the  road  and  dashed  along  the  valley-level,  with  the 
cool,  dewy  night  air  whistling  in  his  locks.  After  entering 
the  lane  leading  upward  to  his  home,  he  dropped  the  reins 
and  allowed  the  panting  horse  to  choose  his  own  gait.  A 
light,  sparkling  through  the  locust-trees,  pierced  him  with  the 
sting  of  an  unwelcome  external  conscience,  in  which  he  had 
no  part,  yet  which  he  could  not  escape. 

Rachel  Miller  looked  wearily  up  from  her  knitting  as  he 
entered  the  room.  She  made  a  feeble  attempt  to  smile,  but 
the  expression  of  her  face  suggested  imminent  tears. 

"  Aunt,  why  did  you  wait  ?  "  said  he,  speaking  rapidly. 
"  I  forgot  to  look  at  my  watch,  and  I  really  thought  it  was 
no  more  than  ten — " 

He  paused,  seeing  that  her  eyes  were  fixed.  She  was 
looking  afc  the  tall  old-fashioned  clock.  The  hand  pointed 
to  half-past  twelve,  and  every  cluck  of  the  ponderous  pen- 
dulum said,  distinctly,  "  Late !  late  !  late  !  " 

He  lighted  a  candle  in  silence,  said,  "  Good  night,  Aunt !  " 
and  went  up  to  his  room. 

"  Good  night,  Joseph !  "  she  solemnly  responded,  and  a 
deep,  hollow  sigh  reached  his  ear  before  the  door  was  closed. 


22  JOSKPH    AXD    HI 


CHAPTEK  III. 

THE    PLACE    AXD    PEOPLE. 

JOSKPH  ASTEX'S  nature  was  shy  and  sensitive,  but  not 
merely  from  a  habit  of  introversion.  He  saw  no  deeper  into 
himself,  in  fact,  than,  his  moods  and  sensations,  and  thus 
quite  failed  to  recognize  what  it  Avas  that  kept  him  apart 
from  the  society  in  which  he  should  have  freely  moved.  He 
felt  the  difference  of  others,  and  constantly  probed  the  pain 
and  embarrassment  it  gave  him,  but  the  sources  wherefrom 
it  grew  were  the  last  which  he  would  have  guessed. 

A  boy's  life  may  be  weakened  for  growth,  in  all  its  fibres, 
by  the  watchfulness  of  a  too  anxious  love,  and  the  guidance 
of  a  too  exquisitely  nurtured  conscience.  He  may  be  so 
trained  in  the  habits  of  goodness,  and  purity,  and  duty,  that 
every  contact  with  the  world  is  like  an  abrasion  upon  the 
delicate  surface  of  his  soul.  Every  wind  visits  him  too 
roughly,  and  he  shrinks  from  the  encounters  which  brace 
true  manliness,  and  strengthen  it  for  the  exercise  of  good. 

The  rigid  piety  of  Joseph's  mother  was  warmed  and 
softened  by  her  tenderness  towards  him,  and  he  never  felt  it 
as  a  yoke.  His  nature  instinctively  took  the  imprint  of 
hers,  and  she  was  happy  in  seeing  so  clear  a  reflection  of 
herself  in  his  innocent  young  heart.  She  prolonged  his 
childhood,  perhaps  without  intending  it,  into  the  years  when 
the  unrest  of  approaching  manhood  should  have  led  him  to 
severer  studies  and  lustier  sports.  Her  death  transferred 
his  guardianship  to  other  hands,  but  did  not  change  its 


23 

diameter.  Her  sister  Rachel  was  equally  pood  and  con- 
scientious, possibly  with  an  equal  eiipn.eity  for  tenderness, 
but  her  barren  life  had  restrained  th^  habit  of  its  expression. 
Joseph  could  not  but  confess  that  she  was  guided  by  tho 
strictest  sense  of  duty,  but  she  seemed  to  him  cold,  severe, 
unsympathetic.  There  were  times  when  the  alternative 
presented  itself  to  his  mind,  of  either  allowing  her  absolute 
control  of  all  his  actions,  or  wounding  her  to  the  heart  by  as- 
serting a  moderate  amount  of  independence. 

He  was  called  fortunate,  but  it  wa.s  impossible  for  him 
consciously  to  feel  his  fortune.  The  two  hundred  acres  of 
the  farm,  stretching  back  over  the  softly  swelling  hills  which 
enclosed  the  valley  on  the  east,  were  as  excellent  soil  as  the 
neighborhood  knew ;  the  stock  was  plentiful ;  the  house, 
barn,  and  all  the  appointments  of  the  place  were  in  the  best 
order,  and  he  was  the  sole  owner  of  all.  The  work  of  his 
own  hands  was  nob  needed,  but  it  was  a  mechanical  exhaus- 
tion of  time, — an  enforced  occupation  of  body  and  mind, 
which  he  followed  in  the  vague  hope  that  some  richer  de- 
velopment of  life  might  come  afterwards.  But  there  were 
times  when  the  fields  looked  very  dreary, — when  the  trees, 
rooted  in  their  places,  and  growing  under  conditions  which 
they  were  powerless  to  choose  or  change,  were  but  tiresome 
types  of  himself, — when  even  the  beckoning  heights  far  down 
the  valley  failed  to  touch  his  fancy  with  the  hint  of  a 
broader  world.  Duty  said  to  him,  "  You  must  be  perfectly 
contented  in  your  place !  "  but  there  was  the  miserable,  un- 
grateful, inexplicable  fact  of  discontent. 

Furthermore,  he  had  by  this  time  discovered  that  certain 
tastes  which  he  possessed  were  so  many  weaknesses —  if  not, 
indeed,  matters  of  reproach — in  the  eye»  of  his  neighbors. 
The  delight  and  the  torture  of  finer  nerves — an  inability  to 


2-1  JOSKPH    AND    HIS    nil  K  XIX 

use  coarse  and  strong  phrases,  and  a,  shrinking  from  all  dis- 
play of  rude  manners — were  peculiarities  which  he  could  not 
overcome,  and  must  endeavor  to  conceal.  There  were  men. 
of  sturdy  intelligence  in  the  community  ;  but  none  of  refined 
culture,  through  whom  he  might  have  measured  and  under- 
stood himself;  and  the  very  qualities,  therefore,  which 
should  have  been  his  pride,  gave  him.  only  a  sense  of  shame. 

Two  memories  haunted  him,  after  the  evening  at  Warri- 
ner's  ;  and,  though  so  different,  they  were  not  to  be  discon- 
nected. No  two  girls  could  be  more  unlike  than  Lucy 
Henderson  and  Miss  Julia  Blessing ;  he  had  known  one  for 
years,  and  the  other  was  the  partial  acquaintance  of  an  even- 
ing ;  yet  the  image  of  either  one  was  swiftly  followed  by 
that  of  the  other.  When  he  thought  of  Lucy's  eyes,  Miss 
Julia's  hand  stole  over  his  shoulder ;  when  he  recalled  the 
glossy  ringlets  of  the  latter,  he  saw,  beside  them,  the  faintly 
flushed  cheek  and  the  pure,  sweet  mouth  which  had  awa- 
kened in  him  his  first  daring  desire. 

Phantoms  as  they  were,  they  seemed  to  have  taken  equal 
possession  of  the  house,  the  garden,  and  the  fields.  While 
Lucy  sat  quietly  by  the  window,  Miss  Julia  skipped  lightly 
along  the  adjoining  hall.  One  lifted  a  fallen,  rose-branch  on 
the  lawn,  the  other  snatched  the  reddest  blossom  from  it. 
One  leaned  against  the  trunk  of  the  old  hemlock-tree,  the 
other  fluttered  in  and  out  among  the  clumps  of  shrubbery  ; 
but  the  lonely  green  was  wonderfully  brightened  by  these 
visions  of  pink  and  white,  and  Joseph  enjoyed  the  fancy 
•without  troubling  himself  to  think  what  it  meant. 

The  house  was  seated  upon  a  gentle  knoll,  near  the  head 
of  a  side-valley  sunk  like  a  dimple  among  the  hills  which  en- 
closed the  river-meadows,  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
It  was  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  and  its  massive  walls 


were  faced  with  checkered  bricks,  alternately  red  and  black, 
to  which  the  ivy  clung-  with  tenacious  feet  wherever  it  was 
allowed  to  run.  The  gables  terminated  in  broad  double 
chimneys,  between  which  a  railed  walk,  intended  fora  look- 
out, but  rarely  used  for  that  or  any  other  purpose,  rested  on 
the  peak  of  the  roof.  A  low  portico  paved  with  stone  ex- 
tended along  the  front,  which  was  further  shaded  by  two 
enormous  sycamore-trees  as  old  as  the  house  itself.  The 
evergreens  and  ornamental  shrubs  which  occupied  the  re- 
mainder of  the  little  lawn  denoted  the  taste  of  a  later  gener- 
ation. To  the  east,  an  open  turfy  space,  in  the  centre  of 
which  stood  a  superb  weeping-willow,  divided  the  house 
from  the  great  stone  barn  with  its  flanking  cribs  and  "over- 
shoots ; "  on  the  opposite  side  lay  the  sunny  garden,  with 
gnarled  grape-vines  clambering  along  its  walls,  and  a  double 
row  of  tall  old  box-bushes,  each  grown  into  a  single  solid 
mass,  stretching  down  the  centre. 

The  fields  belonging  to  the  property,  softly  rising  and 
following  the  undulations  of  the  hills,  limited  the  landscape 
on  three  sides;  but  on  the  south  there  was  a  fair  view  of  the 
valley  of  the  larger  stream,  with  its  herd-speckled  meadows, 
glimpses  of  water  between  the  fringing  trees,  and  farm-houses 
sheltered  among  the  knees  of  the  farther  hills.  It  was  a  re- 
gion of  peace  and  repose  and  quiet,  drowsy  beauty,  and 
there  were  few  farms  which  were  not  the  ancestral  homes  of. 
the  families  who  held  them.  The  people  were  satisfied,  for 
they  lived  upon  a  bountiful  soil ;  and  if  but  few  were  notably 
rich,  still  fewer  were  absolutely  poor.  They  had  a  sluggish 
sense  of  content,  a  half-conscious  feeling  that  their  lines 
were  cast  in  pleasant  places ;  they  were  orderly,  moral,  and 
generally  honest,  and  their  own  types  were  so  constantly  re- 
produced and  fixed,  both  by  intermarriage  and  intercourse, 


'Jb  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FKIEXD. 

that  any  variation  therein  was  a  thing  to  be  suppressed  if 
possible.  Any  sign  of  an  unusual  taste,  or  a  different  view 
of  life,  excited  their  suspicion,  and  the  most  of  them  were 
incapable  of  discriminating  between  independent  thought  oa 
moral  and  social  questions,  and  "  free-thinking  "  in  the  reli- 
gious significance  which  they  attached  to  the  word.  Politi- 
cal excitements,  it  is  true,  sometimes  swept  over  the  neigh- 
borhood, but  in  a  mitigated  form  ;  and  the  discussions  which 
then  took  place  between  neighbors  of  opposite  faith  were 
generally  repetitions  of  the  arguments  furnished  by  their  re 
spective  county  papers. 

To  one  whose  twofold  nature  conformed  to  the  common 
mould, — into  whom,  before  his  birth,  no  mysterious  ele- 
ment had  been  infused,  to  be  the  basis  of  new  sensations, 
desires,  and  powers, — the  region  was  a  paradise  of  peaceful 
days.  Even  as  a  boy  the  probable  map  of  his  life  was 
drawn :  he  could  behold  himself  as  young  man,  as  husband, 
father,  and  comfortable  old  man,  by  simply  looking  upon 
these  various  stages  in  others. 

If,  however,  his  senses  were  not  sluggish,  but  keen ;  if 
his  nature  reached  beyond  the  ordinary  necessities,  and 
hungered  for  the  taste  of  higher  thfeigs;  if  he  longed  to 
share  in  that  life  of  the  world,  the  least  part  of  which  was 
known  to  his  native  community  ;  if,  not  content  to  accept 
the  mechanical  faith  of  passive  minds,  he  dared  to  repeat 
the  long  struggle  of  the  human  race  in  his  own  spiritual  and 
mental  growth ;  then, — why,  then,  the  region  was  not  a 
paradise  of  peaceful  days. 

llachel  Miller,  now  that  the  dangerous  evening  was  over, 
•was  shrewd  enough  to  resume  her  habitual  manner  towards 
her  nephew.  Her  curiosity  to  know  what  had  been  done, 
and  how  Joseph  had  been  affected  by  the  merry-making, 


JOSEPH    AND    IIIS    Fi:iT-:XD.  27 

rendered  her  careful  not  to  frighten  him  from  the  subject  by 
warnings  or  reproaches.  He  was  frank  and  communicative, 
and  Ilachel  found,  to  her  surprise,  that  the  evening  at  War- 
riner's  was  much,  and  not  wholly  unpleasantly,  in  her 
thoughts  during  her  knitting-hours.  The  farm-work  was 
briskly  forwarded  ;  Joseph  was  active  in  the  field,  and  deci- 
dedly brighter  in  the  house  ;  and  when  he  announced  tho 
new  engagement,  with  an  air  which  hinted  that  his  attend- 
ance was  a  matter  of  course,  she  was  only  able  to  say  : — 

"  I'm  very  much  mistaken  if  that's  the  end.  Get  agoing 
once,  and  there's  no  telling  where  you'll  fetch  up.  I  sup- 
pose that  town's  girl  won't  stay  much  longer, — the  farm- 
work  of  the  neighborhood  couldn't  stand  it, — and  so  she 
means  to  have  all  she  can  while  her  visit  lasts." 

"  Indeed,  Aunt,"  Joseph  protested,  "  Elwood  Withers 
first  proposed  it,  and  the  others  all  agreed." 

"  And  ready  enough  they  were,  I'll  be  bound." 

"  Yes,  they  were,"  Joseph  replied,  with  a  little  more  firm- 
ness than  usual.  "  All  of  them.  And  there  was  no  re- 
spectable family  in  the  neighborhood  that  wasn't  repre- 
sented." 

Rachel  made  an  effort  and  kept  silence.  The  innovation, 
might  be  temporary,  and  in  that  case  it  were  prudent  to 
take  no  further  notice ;  or  it  might  be  the  beginning  of  a 
change  in  the  ways  of  the  young  people,  and  if  so,  she 
needed  further  knowledge  in  order  to  work  successfully 
against  it  in  Joseph's  case. 

She  little  suspected  how  swiftly  and  closely  the  question 
would  be  brought  to  her  own  door. 

A  week  afterwards  the  second  of  the  evening  parties  was 
held,  and  was  even  more  successful  than  the  first.  Every- 
body was  there,  bringing  a  cheerfu)  memory  of  the  former 


28  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FRIKXD. 

occasion,  and  Miss  Julia  Blessing,  no  longer  dreaded  as  an 
unknown  scrutinizing  element,  was  again  the  life  and  soul 
of  the  company.  It  was  astonishing  how  correctly  she  re- 
tained the  names  and  characteristics  of  all  those  whom  she 
had  already  met,  and  how  intelligently  she  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood.  It  was  remarked  that  her 
dress  was  studiously  simple,  as  if  to  conform  to  country 
ways,  yet  the  airy,  graceful  freedom  of  her  manner  gave  it  a 
character  of  elegance  which  sufficiently  distinguished  her 
from  the  other  girls. 

Joseph  felt  that  she  looked  to  him,  as  by  an  innocent 
natural  instinct,  for  a  more  delicate  and  intimate  recogni- 
tion than  she  expected  to  find  elsewhere.  Fragments  of 
sentences,  parenthetical  expressions,  dropped  in  her  lively 
talk,  were  always  followed  by  a  quick  glance  which  said  to 
him :  "  We  have  one  feeling  in  common  ;  I  know  that  you 
understand  me."  He  was  fascinated,  but  the  experience 
was  so  new  that  it  was  rather  bewildering.  He  was  drawn 
to  catch  her  seemingly  random  looks, — to  wait  for  them, 
and  then  shrink  timidly  when  they  came,  feeling  all  the 
while  the  desire  to  be  in  the  quiet  corner,  outside  the  merry 
circle  of  talkers,  where  sat  Lucy  Henderson. 

When,  at  last,  a  change  in  the  diversions  of  the  evening 
brought  him  to  Lucy's  side,  she  seemed  to  him  grave  and 
preoccupied.  Her  words  lacked  the  pleasant  directness  and 
self-possession  which  had  made  her  society  so  comfortable  to 
him.  She  no  longer  turned  her  full  face  towards  him  while 
speaking,  and  he  noticed  that  her  eyes  were  wandering  over 
the  company  with  a  peculiar  expression,  as  if  she  were  try- 
ing to  listen  with  them.  It  seemed  to  him,  also,  that  El- 
wood  Withers,  who  was  restlessly  moving  about  the  room, 
was  watching  some  one,  or  waiting  for  something. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    F1JIEXD.  29 

"  I  have  it  !  "  suddenly  cried  Miss  Blessing,  floating  to- 
wards Joseph  and  Lucy  ;  "it  shall  be  you,  Mr.  Asten  !  " 

"  Yes,"  echoed  Anna  "SVarriner,  following  ;  "  if  it  could 
be,  how  delightful  !  " 

"  Hush,  Anna  dear  !  Let  us  keep  the  matter  secret !  " 
whispered  Miss  Blessing,  assuming  a  mysterious  air  ;  "  we 
will  slip  away  and  consult ;  and,  of  course,  Lucy  must  come 
with  us." 

"  Now,"  she  resumed,  when  the  four  found  themselves 
alone  in  the  old-fashioned  dining-room,  "  we  must,  first  of 
all,  explain  everything  to  Mr.  Asten.  The  question  is, 
where  we  shall  meet,  next  week.  McXaughtons  are  build- 
ing an  addition  (I  believe  you  call  it)  to  their  barn,  and  a 
child  has  the  measles  at  another  place,  and  something  else  is 
wrong  somewhere  else.  We  cannot  interfere  with  the 
course  of  nature ;  but  neither  should  we  give  up  these 
charming  evenings  without  making  an  effort  to  continue 
them.  Our  sole  hope  and  reliance  is  on  you,  Mr.  Asten." 

She  pronounced  the  words  with  a  niock  solemnity,  clasp- 
ing her  hands,  and  looking  into  his  face  with  bright,  eager, 
laughing  eyes. 

"  If  it  depended  on  myself — "  Joseph  began. 

"  O,  I  know  the  difficulty,  Mr.  Asten  !  "  she  exclaimed  ; 
"and  really,  it's  unpardonable  in  me  to  propose  such  a  thing. 
But  isn't  it  possible — just  possible — that  Miss  Miller  might 
be  persuaded  by  us  ?  " 

"  Julia  dear  !  "  cried  Anna  Warriner,  "  I  believe  there's 
nothing  you'd  be  afraid  to  undertake." 

Joseph  scarcely  knew  what  to  say.  He  looked  from  one 
to  the  other,  coloring  slightly,  and  ready  to  turn  pale  the 
next  moment,  as  he  endeavored  to  imagine  how  his  aunt 
would  receive  such  an  astounding  proposition. 


30  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FJBIKXD. 

"  There  is  no  i-eason  why  she  should  be  asked,"  said 
Lucy.  "  It  would  be  a  great  annoyance  to  her." 

"Indeed?"  said  Miss  Blessing;  "then  I  should  be  so 
sorry !  But  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  your  lovely  place  the 
other  day  as  we  were  driving  up  the  valley.  It  was  a  per- 
fect picture,— and  I  have  such  a  desire  to  see  it  nearer !  " 

"  "Why  will  you  not  come,  then  ?  "  Joseph  eagerly  asked. 
Lucy's  words  seemed  to  him  blunt  and  unfriendly,  although 
he  knew  they  had  been  intended  for  his  relief. 

"  It  would  be  a  great  pleasure ;  yet,  if  I  thought  your 
aunt  would  be  annoyed — 

"  I  am  sure  she  will  be  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance," 
said  Joseph,  with  a  reproachful  side-glance  at  Lucy. 

Miss  Blessing  noticed  the  glance.  "  2  am  more  sure,"  she 
said,  playfully,  "  that  she  will  be  very  much  amused  at  my 
ignorance  and  inexperience.  And  I  don't  believe  Lucy 
meant  to  frighten  me.  As  for  the  party,  Ave  won't  think  of 
that  now ;  but  you  will  go  with  us,  Lucy,  won't  you, — with 
Anna  and  myself,  to  make  a  neighborly  afternoon  call  ?  " 

Lucy  felt  obliged  to  accede  to  a  request  so  amiably  made, 
after  her  apparent  rudeness.  Yet  she  could  not  force  her- 
self to  affect  a  hearty  acquiescence,  and  Joseph  thought  her 
singularly  cold. 

He  did  not  doubt  but  that  Miss  Blessing,  whose  warm, 
impulsive  nature  seemed  to  him  very  much  what  his  own 
might  be  if  he  dared  to  show  it,  would  fulfil  her  promise. 
Neither  did  he  doubt  that  so  much  innocence  and  sweetness 
as  she  possessed  would  make  a  favorable  impression  upon 
his  aunt;  but  he  judged  it  best  not  to  inform  the  latter  of 
the  possible  visit. 


31 


CHAPTER   IV. 

MISS    BLESSING    CALLS    OX    RACHEL    MILLER. 

Ox  the  follov.ing  Saturday  afternoon,  Rachel  Miller  sat 
at  the  front  window  of  the  sitting-room,  and  arranged  her 
light  task  of  sewing  and  darning,  with  a  feeling  of  unusual 
comfort.  The  household  work  of  the  week  was  over;  the 
weather  was  fine  and  warm,  with  a  brisk  drying  breeze  for 
the  hay  on  the  hill-field,  the  last  load  of  which  Joseph  ex- 
pected to  have  in  the  barn  before  his  five  o'clock  supper  was 
ready.  As  she  looked  down  the  valley,  she  noticed  that  the 
mowers  were  still  swinging  their  way  through  Hunter's 
grass,  and  that  Cunningham's  corn  sorely  needed  working. 
There  was  a  different  state  of  things  on  the  Asten  place. 
Everything  was  done,  and  well  done,  up  to  the  front  of  the 
season.  The  weather  had  been  fortunate,  it  was  true ;  but 
Joseph  had  urged  on  the  work  with  a  different  spirit.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  he  had  taken  a  new  interest  in  the  farm ; 
he  was  here  and  there,  even  inspecting  with  his  own  eyes 
the  minor  duties  which  had  been  formerly  intrusted  to  his 
man  Dennis.  How  could  she  know  that  this  activity  was 
the  only  outlet  for  a  restless  heart  ? 

If  any  eA'il  should  come  of  his  social  recreation,  she  had 
done  her  duty ;  but  no  evil  seemed  likely.  She  had  always 
separated  his  legal  from  his  moral  independence ;  there  was 
no  enactment  establishing  the  period  when  the  latter  com- 
menced, and  it  could  not  be  made  manifest  by  documents, 
like  the  former.  She  would  have  admitted,  certainly,  that 


32  JOSEPH    AND    JUS    F-itlKKD. 

lier  guardianship  must  cease  at  some  time,  but  the  thought 
of  making  preparation  for  that  time  had  never  entered  her 
head.  She  only  understood  conditions,  not  the  adaptation 
of  characters  to  them.  Going  back  over  her  own  life,  she 
could  recall  but  little  difference  between  the  girl  of  eigh- 
teen and  the  woman  of  thirty.  There  was  the  same  place 
in  her  home,  the  same  duties,  the  same  subjection  to  the 
will  of  her  parents — no  exercise  of  independence  or  self- 
reliance  anywhere,  and  no  growth  of  those  virtues  beyond 
what  a  passive  maturity  brought  with  it. 

Even  now  she  thought  very  little  about  any  question  of 
life  in  connection  with  Joseph.  Her  parents  had  trained 
her  in  the  discipline  of  a  rigid  sect,  and  she  could  not  dis- 
sociate the  idea  of  morality  from  that  of  solemn  renun- 
ciation. She  could  not  say  that  social  pleasures  were  posi- 
tively wrong,  but  they  always  seemed  to  her  to  be  enjoyed 
on  the  outside  of  an  open  door  labelled  "  Temptation ; " 
and  who  could  tell  what  lay  beyond  ?  Some  very  good  peo- 
ple, she  knew,  were  fond  of  company,  and  made  merry  in  an 
innocent  fashion ;  they  were  of  mature  years  and  settled 
characters,  and  Joseph  was  only  a  boy.  The  danger,  how- 
ever, was  not  so  imminent :  no  fault  could  be  found  with 
his  attention  to  duty,  and  a  chance  so  easily  escaped  was  a 
comfortable  guaranty  for  the  future. 

In  the  midst  of  this  mood  (we  can  hardly  say  train  of 
thought),  she  detected  the  top  of  a  carriage  through  the 
bushes  fringing  the  lane.  The  vehicle  presently  came  into 
view:  Anna  Warriner  was  driving,  and  there  were  two 
other  ladies  on  the  back  seat.  As  they  drew  up  at  the 
hitching-post  on  the  green,  she  recognized  Lucy  Henderson 
getting  out ;  but  the  airy  creature  who  sprang  after  her, — 
the  girl  with  dark,  falling  ringlets, — could  it  be  the  stranger 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEXD.  33 

from  town  ?  The  plaiu,  country-made  gingham  dress,  the 
sober  linen  collar,  the  work-bag  on  her  arm — could  they  be- 
long to  the  stylish  young  lady  whose  acquaintance  had 
turned  Anna's  head? 

A  proper  spirit  of  hospitality  required  her  to  meet  the 
visitors  at  the  gate;  so  there  was  no  time  left  for  conjec- 
ture. She  was  a  little  confused,  but  not  dissatisfied  at  the 
chance  of  seeing  the  stranger. 

"  We  thought  we  could  come  for  an  hour  this  afternoon, 
without  disturbing  you,"  said  Anna  Warriner.  "  Mother 
lias  lost  your  receipt  for  pickling  cherries,  arid  Bob  said  you 
were  already  through  with  the  hay-harvest ;  and  so  wo 
brought  Julia  along — this  is  Julia  Blessing." 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  said  Miss  Blessing,  timidly  extend- 
ing her  hand,  and  slightly  dropping  her  eyelids.  She  then 
fell  behind  Anna  and  Lucy,  and  spoke  no  more  until  they 
were  all  seated  in  the  sitting-room. 

"  How  do  you  like  the  country  by  this  time  ?  "  Rachel  asked, 
fe  iling  that  a  little  attention  was  necessary  to  a  new  guest. 

"  So  well  that  I  think  I  shall  never  like  the  city  again,' 
Miss  Blessing  answered.  "  This  quiet,  peaceful  life  is  such 
a  rest ;  and  I  really  never  before  knew  what  order  was,  and 
industry,  and  economy." 

She  looked  around  the  room  as  she  spoke,  and  glanced  at 
the  barn  through  the  eastern  window. 

"Yes,  your  ways  in  town  are  very  different,"  Rachel 
remarked. 

"It  seems  to  me,  now,  that  they  are  entirely  artificial. 
I  find  myself  so  ignorant  of  the  proper  way  of  living  that 
I  should  be  embarrassed  among  you,  if  you  were  not  all  so 
very  kind.  But  I  am  trying  to  learn  a  little." 

"O,  we  don't  expect  too  much  of  town's-folks,"  said  Ra- 
2* 


34  JOSEPH    AKD    HIS    FKIEJX'D. 

chel,  in  a  much  more  friendly  tone,  "  and  we're  always  glad 
to  see  them  willing  to  put  up  with  our  ways.  But  not 
many  are." 

"Please  don't  count  me  among  those !  "  Miss  Blessing  ex- 
claimed. 

"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Rachel  !  "  said  Anna  Warriner ; 
"  you'd  be  surprised  to  know  how  Julia  gets  along  with 
everything — don't  she,  Lucy?" 

"  Yes,  she's  very  quick,"  Lucy  Henderson  replied. 

Miss  Blessing  cast  down  her  eyes,  smiled,  and  shook  her 
head. 

Rachel  Miller  asked  some  questions  which  opened  the 
sluices  of  Miss  Warriiier's  gossip — and  she  had  a  good  store 
of  it.  The  ways  and  doings  of  various  individuals  were 
discussed,  and  Miss  Blessing's  occasional  remarks  showed  a 
complete  familiarity  with  them.  Her  manner  was  grave  and 
attentive,  and  Rachel  was  surprised  to  find  so  much  unob- 
trusive good  sense  in  her  views.  The  reality  was  so  differ- 
ent from  her  previously  assumed  impression,  that  she  felt 
bound  to  make  some  reparation.  Almost  before  she  was 
aware  of  it,  her  manner  became  wholly  friendly  and  pleasant. 

"  May  I  look  at  your  trees  and  flowers  ?  "  Miss  Blessing 
asked,  when  the  gossip  had  been  pretty  well  exhausted. 

They  all  arose  and  went  out  on  the  lawn.  Rose  and  wood- 
bine, phlox  and  vei'bena,  passed  under  review,  and  then  the 
long,  rounded  walls  of  box  attracted  Miss  Blessing's  eye. 
This  was  a  feature  of  the  place  in  which  Rachel  Miller  felt 
considerable  pride,  and  she  led  the  way  through  the  garden 
gate.  Anna  Warriner,  however,  paused,  and  said : — 

"  Lucy,  let  us  go  down  to  the  spring-house.  We  can  get 
back  again  before  Julia  has  half  finished  her  raptures." 

Lucy  hesitated  a  moment.     She  looked  at  Miss  Blessing, 


JiJSEHl    AND    HIS    rillLND.  Jo 

who  laughed  and  said,  "  O,  don't  mind  me  !  "  as  she  took  her 
place  at  Bache'i's  side. 

The  avenue  of  box  ran  the  whole  length  of  the  garden, 
which  sloped  gentlv  10  the  south.  At  the  bottom  the  green 
walls  curved  outward,  forming  three  fourths  of  a  circle,  spa- 
cious enough  to  contain  several  seats.  There  was  a  delightful 
view  of  the  valley  through  the  opening. 

"  The  loveliest  place  I  ever  saw  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Bless- 
ing, taking  one  of  the  rustic  chairs.  "  How  pleasant  it  must 
Le,  when  you  have  all  your  neighbors  here  together  !  " 

Rachel  Miller  was  a  little  startled;  but  before  she  could 
reply,  Miss  Blessing  continued  :— 

"  There  is  such  a  difference  between  a  company  of  young 
people  here  in  the  country,  and  what  is  called  'a  party'  iu 
the  city.  There  it  is  all  dress  and  flirtation  and  vanity,  but 
here  it  is  only  neighborly  visiting  on  a  larger  scale.  I  have 
enjoyed  the  quiet  company  of  all  your  folks  so  much  the  more, 
because  I  felt  that  it  was  so  very  innocent.  Indeed,  I  don't 
see  how  anybody  could  be  led  into  harmful  ways  here." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Rachel :  "  we  must  learn  to  mistrust 
out  own  hearts." 

"  You  are  right !  The  best  are  weak — of  themselves ;  but 
there  is  more  safety  where  all  have  been  brought  up  unac- 
quainted with  temptation.  Now,  you  will  perhaps  wonder 
at  me  when  I  say  that  I  could  trust  the  young  men — for 
instance,  Mr.  Asten,  your  nephew — as  if  they  were  my 
brothers.  That  is,  I  feel  a  positive  certainty  of  their  excellent 
character.  What  they  say  they  mean :  it  is  otherwise  in  the 
city.  It  is  delightful  to  see  them  all  together,  like  members 
of  one  family.  You  must  enjoy  it,  I  should  think,  when  they 
meet  here." 

Rachel  Miller's  eyes  opened  wide,  and  there   was  both  a 


36  .TOSKl'II    AND    HIS    FIUKXD. 

puzzled  and  a  searching  expression  in  the  look  she  gave  Miss 
Blessing.  The  latter,  with  an  air  of  almost  infantine  simpli- 
city, her  lips  slightly  parted,  accepted  the  scrutiny  with  a 
quiet  cheerfulness  which  .seemed  the  perfection  of  candor. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  Rachel,  slowly,  "  this  is  a  new  thing. 
I  hope  the  merry-makings  are  as  innocent  as  you  think  ;  but 
I'm  afraid  they  unsettle  the  young  people,  after  all." 

"Do  you,  really?"  exclaimed  Miss  Blessing.  "What 
have  you  seen  in  them  which  leads  you  to  think  so?  But 
no — never  mind  my  question  ;  you  may  have  reasons  which 
I  have  no  right  to  ask.  Now,  I  remember  Mr.  Asten.  telling 
Anna  and  Lucy  and  myself,  how  much  he  should  like  to 
invite  his  friends  here,  if  it  were  not  for  a  duty  which  pi*e- 
vented  it ;  and  a  duty,  he  said,  was  more  important  to  him 
than  a  pleasure." 

"  Did  Joseph  say  that  ?  "  Rachel  exclaimed. 

"  O,  perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  have  told  it,"  said  Miss  Bless- 
ing, casting  down  her  eyes  and  blushing  in  confusion  :  "  in 
that  case,  please  don't  say  anything  about  it  !  Perhaps  it  was 
a  duty  towards  you,  for  he  told  me  that  he  looked  upon  you 
as  a  second  mother." 

Rachel's  eyres  softened,  and  it  was  a  little  while  before  she 
spoke.  "  I've  tried  to  do  my  duty  by  him,"  she  faltered  at 
last,  "  but  it  sometimes  seems  an  unthankful  business,  and  I 
can't  always  tell  how  he  takes  it.  And  so  he  wanted  to  have 
a  company  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  so  sorry  I  said  it !  "  cried  Miss  Blessing.  "  I  never 
thought  you  were  opposed  to  company,  on  principle.  Miss 
Chaffinch,  the  minister's  daughter,  you  know,  was  there  the 
last  time ;  and,  really,  if  you  could  see  it —  But  it  is  pre- 
sumptuous in  me  to  say  anything.  Indeed,  I  am  not  a  fair 
judge,  because  these  little  gatherings  have  enabled  me  to  make 


JO -K PI  I    AXD    HIS    FRIEND.  61 

such  pleasant  acquaintances.  And  the  young  men  tell  me 
that  they  work  all  the  better  after  them.'' 

"  It's  only  on  Ills  account,  '  said  .Rach'"d. 

"'  IViy,  I'm  sure  that  the  last  thing  Mr.  Asten  would  wish, 
would  be  your  giving  up  a  principle  fur  his  sake  !  I  know, 
from  his  face,  that  hi,s  o\vn  character  is  founded  on  principle. 
And,  besides,  here  in  the  country,  you  don't  keep  count  of 
hospitality,  as  they  do  in  the  city,  and  feel  obliged  to  return 
as  much  as  you  receive.  So,  if  you  will  try  to  forget  what 
I  have  said — 

Rachel  interrupted  her.  "  I  meant  something  different. 
Joseph  knows  why  I  objected  to  parties.  He  must  not  feel 
under  obligations  which  I  stand  in  the  way  of  his  repaying. 
If  he  tells  me  that  he  should  like  to  invite  his  friends  to  this 
place,  I  will  help  him  to  entertain  them." 

"  You  are  his  second  mother,  indeed,"  Miss  Blessing  mur- 
mured, looking  at  her  with  a  fond  admiration.  "  And  now 
I  can  hope  that  you  will  forgive  my  thoughtlessness.  I  should 
feel  humiliated  in  his  presence,  if  he  knew  that  I  had  repeated 
his  words.  But  he  will  not  ask  you,  and  this  is  the  end  of 
any  harm  I  may  have  done." 

"  Xo,"  said  Rachel,  "  he  will  not  ask  me  ;  but  won't  I  be 
an  offence  in  his  mind  ?  " 

"  I  can  understand  how  you  feel — only  a  woman  can  judge 
a  woman's  heart.  Would  you  think  me  too  forward  if  I 
tell  you  what  might  be  done,  this  once  ?  " 

She  stole  softly  up  to  Rachel  as  she  spoke,  and  laid  her 
hand  gently  upon  her  arm. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  wrong — but  if  you  were  first  to  suggest  to 
your  nephew  that  if  he  wished  to  make  some  return  for  the 
hospitality  of  his  neighbors, — or  put  it  in  whatever  form  you 
think  best, — would  not  that  remove  the  '  offence '  (though  ho 


38  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FJttKXD. 

surely  cannot  look  at  it  in  that  light) ,  and  make  him  grate- 
ful and  happy  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Rachel,  after  a  little  reflection,  "if  anything 
is  done,  that  would  be  as  good  a  way  as  any." 

"  And,  of  course,  you  won't  mention  me  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  call  to  do  it — as  I  can  see." 

"  Julia,  dear  !  "  cried  Anna  from  the  gate  ;  "  come  and  see 
the  last  load  of  hay  hauled  into  the  barn  !  " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  it,  if  you  will  excuse  me,"  said  Miss 
Blessing  to  Rachel ;  "  I  have  taken  quite  an  interest  in 
farming." 

As  they  were  passing  the  porch,  Rachel  paused  on  the  step 
and  said  to  Anna:  "You'll  bide  and  get  your  suppers?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  Anna  replied :  "  we  didn't  mean  to ;  but 
we  stayed  longer  than  we  intended — 

"  Then  you  can  easily  stay  longer  still." 

There  was  nothing  unfriendly  in  Rachel's  blunt  manner. 
Anna  laughed,  took  Miss  Blessing  by  the  arm,  and  started 
for  the  barn.  Lucy  Henderson  quietly  turned  and  entered 
the  house,  where,  without  any  offer  of  services,  she  began  to 
assist  in  arranging  the  table. 

The  two  young  ladies  took  their  stand  on  the  green,  at  a 
safe  distance,  as  the  huge  fragrant  load  approached.  The 
hay  overhung  and  concealed  the  wheels,  as  well  as  the  hind 
quarters  of  the  oxen,  and  on  the  summit  stood  Joseph,  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  and  leaning  on  a  pitch-fork.  He  bent  forward 
as  he  saw  them,  answering  their  greetings  with  an  eager,  sur- 
prised face.  , 

"  O,  take  care,  take  care  !  "  cried  Miss  Blessing,  as  the  load 
entered  the  barn-door ;  but  Joseph  had  already  dropped  upon 
his  knees  and  bent  his  shoulders.  Then  the  wagon  stood 
upon  the  barn-floor;  he  sprang  lightly  upon  a  beam,  de- 


39 

scended  the  upright  ladder,  and  the  next  moment  was  shaking 
Lands  wiili  them. 

''We  have  kept  our  promise,  you  see,"  said  Miss  Bless- 
ing. 

';  Have  you  been  in  the  house  yet  ?  "  Joseph  asked,  look- 
ing at  Anna. 

"  O,  for  an  hour  past,  and  we  are  going  to  take  supper 
with  you." 

"  Dennis  !  "  cried  Joseph,  turning  towards  the  barn,  "  we 
will  let  the  load  stand  to-night.'' 

"  How  much  better  a  man  looks  in  shirt-sleeves  than  in  a 
dress-coat !  "  remarked  Miss  Blessing  aside  to  Anna  "\Varri- 
ner,  but  not  in  so  low  a  tone  as  to  prevent  Joseph  from  hear- 
ing it. 

"  Why,  Julia,  you  are  perfectly  countrified  !  I  never 
saw  anything  like  it !  "  Anna  replied. 

Joseph  turned  to  them  again,  with  a  blight  flush  on  his 
face.  He  caught  Miss  Blessing's  eyes,  full  of  admiration, 
before  the  lids  fell  modestly  over  them. 

"  So  you've  seen  my  home,  already  ?  "  he  said,  as  they 
walked  slowly  towards  the  house. 

"  O,  not  the  half  yet !  "  she  answered,  in  a  low,  earnest 
tone.  "  A  place  so  lovely  and  quiet  as  this  cannot  be  ap- 
preciated at  once.  I  almost  wish  I  had  not  seen  it :  what 
shall  I  do  when  I  must  go  back  to  the  hot  pavements,  and 
the  glaring  bricks,  and  the  dust,  and  the  hollow,  artificial 
life  ? "  She  tried  to  check  a  sigh,  but  only  partially  suc- 
ceeded ;  then,  with  a  sudden  effort,  she  laughed  lightly,  and 
added  :  "  I  wonder  if  everybody  doesn't  long  for  something 
else  ?  Now,  Anna,  here,  would  think  it  heavenly  to  change 
places  with  me." 

"  Such  privileges  as  you  have  !  "  Anna  protested. 


40  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKTKND. 

"  Privileges  ?  "  Miss  Blessing  echoed.  "  The  privilege  of 
hearing  scandal,  of  being  judged  by  your  dress,  of  learning 
the  forms  and  manners,  instead  of  the  good  qualities,  of 
men  and  women  ?  No  !  give  me  an  independent  life." 

"  Alone  ?  "  suggested  Miss  Warriner. 

Joseph  looked  at  Miss  Blessing,  who  made  no  reply.  Her 
head  was  turned  aside,  and  he  could  well  understand  that 
she  must  feel  hurt  at  Anna's  indelicacy. 

In  the  house  Rachel  Miller  and  Lucy  had,  in  the  mean 
time,  been  occupied  with  domestic  matters.  The  former, 
however,  was  so  shaken  out  of  her  usual  calm  by  the  con- 
versation in  the  garden,  that  in  spite  of  prudent  resolves 
to  keep  quiet,  she  could  not  restrain  herself  from  asking  a 
question  or  two. 

"  Lucy,"  said  she,  "  how  do  you  find  these  evening  parties 
you've  been  attending  ?  " 

"  They  are  lively  and  pleasant, — at  least  every  one  says 
so." 

"  Are  you  going  to  have  any  more  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  be  the  wish,"  said  Lucy,  suddenly  hesitating, 
as  she  found  Rachel's  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  her  face. 

The  latter  was  silent  for  a  minute,  arranging  the  tea-ser- 
vice ;  but  she  presently  asked  again :  "  Do  you  think 
Joseph  would  like  to  invite  the  young  people  here  ?  " 

"  She  has  told  you  !  "  Lucy  exclaimed,  in  \mfeigned  irri- 
tation. "  Miss  Rachel,  don't  let  it  trouble  you  a  moment : 
nobody  expects  it  of  you  !  " 

Lucy  felt,  immediately,  that  her  expression  had  been  too 
frankly  positive  ;  but  even  the  consciousness  thereof  did  not 
enable  her  to  comprehend  its  effect. 

Rachel  straightened  herself  a  little,  and  said  "  Indeed  ?  " 
in  anything  but  an  amiable  tone.  She  went  to  the  cupboard 


JO.SEril    AND    HIS    FlilKXU.  41 

and  returned  before  speaking  again.  '•  I  didn't  say  any- 
bodv  told  me,"  she  continued  ;  >%  ii's  likely  that  Joseph 
might  think  of  it,  and  I  don't  see  why  people  should  expect 
me  to  stand  in  the  way  of  hi.s  wishes." 

Lucy  was  so  astonished  that  she  could  not  immediately 
reply  ;  and  the  entrance  of  Joseph  and  the  t\vo  ladies  cut 
orF  all  further  opportunity  of  clearing  up  what  she  felt  to  be 
an  awkward  misunderstanding. 

"  I  must  help,  too  !  "  cried  Mi.ss  Blessing,  skipping  into 
the  kitchen  after  Rachel.  li  That  is  one  thing,  at  least, 
which  we  can  learn  in  the  city.  Indeed,  if  it  wasn't  for 
housekeeping,  I  should  feel  terribly  useless." 

Rachel  protested  against  her  help,  but  in  vain.  Miss 
Blessing  had  a  laugh  and  a  lively  answer  for  every  remon- 
strance, and  flitted  about  in  a  manner  which  conveyed  the 
impression  that  she  was  doing  a  great  deal. 

Joseph  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes,  when  he  came  down 
from  his  room  in  fresh  attire,  and  beheld  his  aunt  not  only 
so  assisted,  but  seeming  to  enjoy  it.  Lucy,  who  appeared 
to  be  ill  at  ease,  had  withdrawn  from  the  table,  and  was 
sitting  silently  beside  the  window.  Recalling  their  conver- 
sation a  few  evenings  before,  he  suspected  that  she  might  be 
transiently  annoyed  on  his  aunt's  account ;  she  had  less  con- 
fidence, perhaps,  in  Miss  Blessing's  winning,  natural  man- 
ners. So  Lucy's  silence  threw  no  shadow  upon  his  cheer- 
fulness :  he  had  never  felt  so  happy,  so  free,  so  delighted  to 
assume  the  character  of  a  host. 

After  the  first  solemnity  which  followed  the  taking  of 
seats  at  the  table,  the  meal  proceeded  with  less  than  the 
usual  decorum.  Joseph,  indeed,  so  far  forgot  his  duties, 
that  his  aunt  was  obliged  to  remind  him  of  them  from  time 
to  time.  Miss  Blessing  was  enthusiastic  over  the  cream. 


42  JOSEPH    A  XL)    HIS    FKJKXD. 

and  butter  and  marmalade,  and  Rachel  Miller  found  it  ex- 
ceedingly pleasant  to  have  her  handiwork  appreciated.  Al- 
though she  always  did  her  best,  for  Joseph's  sake,  she 
knew  that  men  have  very  ignorant,  indifferent  tastes  in  such 
matters. 

When  the  meal  was  over,  Anna  Warriner  said  :  "  We 
are  going  to  take  Lucy  on  her  way  as  far  as  the  cross-roads  ; 
so  there  will  not  be  more  than  time  to  get  home  by  sun- 
set." 

Before  the  carriage  was  ready,  however,  another  vehicle 
drove  up  the  lane.  El  wood  Withers  jumped  out,  gave 
Joseph  a  hearty  grip  of  his  powerful  hand,  greeted  the 
others  rapidly,  and  then  addressed  himself  specially  to  Lucy : 
"  I  was  going  to  a  township-meeting  at  the  Corner,"  said 
he  ;  "but  Bob  Warriner  told  me  you  were  here  with  Anna, 
so  I  thought  I  could  save  her  a  roundabout  drive  by  taking 
you  myself." 

"  Thank  you  ;  but  I'm  sorry  you  should  go  so  far  out  of 
your  road,"  said  Lucy.  Her  face  was  pale,  and  there  was 
an  evident  constraint  in  the  smile  which  accompanied  the 
words. 

"  O,  he'd  go  twice  as  far  for  company,"  Anna  Warriner 
remarked.  "  You  know  I'd  take  you,  and  welcome,  but  El- 
wood  has  a  good  claim  on  you,  now." 

"  I  have  no  claim,  Lucy,"  said  Elwood,  rather  dog- 
gedly. 

"  Lst  us  go,  then,"  were  Lucy's  words. 

She  rose,  and  the  four  were  soon  seated  in  the  two  vehi- 
cles. They  drove  away  in  the  low  sunshine,  one  pair  chat- 
ting and  laughing  merrily  as  long  as  they  were  within  hear- 
ing, the  other  singularly  grave  and  silent. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ELWOOD'S  EVENING,  AND  JOSEPH'S. 

FOR  half  a  mile  Ehvood  "Withers,  followed  the  carriage 
containing  Anna  AVarriner  and  her  friend ;  then,  at  the 
curve  of  the  valley,  their  roads  parted,  and  Lucy  and  he 
were  alone.  The  soft  light  of  the  delicious  summer  evening 
was  around  them ;  the  air,  cooled  by  the  stream  which 
broadened  and  bickered  beside  their  way,  was  full  of  all 
healthy  meadow  odors,  and  every  farm  in  the  branching 
dells  they  passed  was  a  picture  of  tranquil  happiness.  Yet 
Lucy  had  sighed  before  she  was  aware  of  it, — a  very  faint, 
tremulous  breath,  but  it  reached  Elwood's  sensitive  ear. 

"  You  don't  seem  quite  well,  Lucy,"  he  said. 

"  Because  I  have  talked  so  little  ?  "  she  asked. 

"!Jsot  just  that,  but — but  I  was  almost  afraid  my  coming 
for  you  was  not  welcome.  I  don't  mean —  "  But  here  lie 
grew  confused,  and  did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"  Indeed,  it  was  very  kind  of  you,"  said  she.  This  was 
not  an  answer  to  his  remark,  and  both  felt  that  it  was 
not. 

Elwood  struck  the  horse  with  his  whip,  then  as  suddenly 
drew  the  reins  on  the  startled  animal.  "  Pshaw  !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, in  a  tone  that  was  almost  fierce,  "  what's  the  use  o' 
my  beating  about  the  bush  in  this  way  ?  " 

Lucy  caught  her  breath,  and  clenched  her  hands  under  her 
shawl  for  one  instant.  Then  she  became  calm,  and  waited  for 
him  to  say  more. 


44:  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEXD. 

"Lucy!  "  he  continued,  turning  towards  Lor,  "you  have  a 
right  to  think  me  a  fool.  I  can  talk  to  anybody  else  move 
freely  than  to  you,  and  the  reason  is,  I  want  to  say  more  to 
you  than  to  any  other  woman  !  There's  no  use  in  my  being 
a  coward  any  longer ;  it's  a  desperate  venture  I'm  making, 
but  it  must  be  made.  Have  you  never  guessed  how  I  feel 
towards  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  very  quietly. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  to  it  ? "  He  tried  to  speak 
calmly,  btit  his  breath  came  thick  and  hard,  and  the  words 
sounded  hoarsely. 

"  I  will  say  this,  Elwood,"  said  she,  "  that  because  I  saw 
your  heart,  I  have  watched  your  ways  and  studied  your 
character.  I  find  you  honest  and  manly  in  everything,  and 
so  tender  and  faithful  that  I  wish  I  could  return  your  affec- 
tion in  the  same  measure." 

A  gleam,  as  of  lightning,  passed  over  his  face. 

"  O,  don't  misunderstand  me  !  "  she  cried,  her  calmness  for- 
saking her,  "  1  esteem,  I  honor  you,  and  that  makes  it  harder 
for  me  to  seem  ungrateful,  unfeeling, — as  I  must.  Elwood, 
if  I  could,  I  would  answer  you  as  you  wish,  but  I  cannot." 

"  If  I  wait  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  And  lose  your  best  years  in  a  vain  hope  !  No,  Elwood, 
my  friend, — let  me  always  call  you  so, — I  have  been  cow- 
ardly also.  I  knew  an  explanation  must  come,  and  I  shrank 
from  the  pain  I  should  feel  in  giving  you  pain.  It  is  hard ; 
and  better  for  both  of  us  that  it  should  not  be  repeated ! " 

"  There's  something  wrong  in  this  world !  "  he  exclaimed, 
after  a  long  pause.  "I  suppose  you  could  no  more  force 
yourself  to  love  me  than  I  could  force  myself  to  love  Anna 
Warriner  or  that  Miss  Blessing.  Then  what  put  it  into  my 
heart  to  love  you  ?  Was  it  God  or  the  Devil !  " 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  45 

"  Elwoocl  !  " 

'•  Hn\v  can  I  help  myself?  Can  I  help  drawing  my 
breath?  Did  I  wet  about  it  of  my  own  will?  Here  1  see 
a  life  that  belongs  to  my  own  life, — as  much  a  part  of  it  as 
my  head  or  heart  ;  but  I  can't  reach  it, — it  draws  away  from 
me,  and  maybe  joins  itself  to  some  one  else  forever  !  O  my 
God!" 

Lucy  burst  into  such  a  violent  passion  of  weeping,  that 
El  wood  forgot  himself  in  his  trouble  for  her.  He  had  never 
witnessed  such  grief,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  and  his  honest 
heart  was  filled  with  self-reproach  at  having  caused  it. 

"  Forgive  me,  Lucy !  "  he  said,  very  tenderly  encircling 
her  with  his  arm,  and  drawing  her  head  upon  his  shoulder  ; 
"  I  spoke  rashly  and  wickedly,  in  my  disappointment.  I 
thought  only  of  myself,  and  forgot  that  I  might  hurt  you 
by  my  words.  I'm  not  the  only  man  who  has  this  kind  of 
trouble  to  bear ;  and  perhaps  if  I  could  see  clearer — but  I 
don't  know ;  I  can  only  see  one  thing." 

She  grew  calmer  as  he  spoke.  Lifting  her  head  from  his 
shoulder,  she  took  his  hand,  and  said  :  "  You  are  a  true  and 
a  noble  man,  Elwood.  It  is  only  a  grief  to  me  that  I  can- 
not love  you  as  a  wife  should  love  her  husband.  But  my 
•will  is  as  powerless  as  yours." 

"  I  believe  you,  Lucy,"  he  answered,  sadly.  "  It's  not 
your  fault, — but,  then,  it  isn't  mine,  either.  You  make  me 
feel  that  the  same  rule  fits  both  of  us,  leastways  so  far  as 
helping  the  matter  is  concerned.  You  needn't  tell  me  I 
may  find  another  woman  to  love ;  the  very  thought  of  it 
makes  me  sick  at  heart.  I'm  rougher  than  you  are,  and 
awkward  in  my  ways — " 

"  It  is  not  that !  O,  believe  me,  it  is  not  that ! "  ci-ied 
Lucy,  interrupting  him.  "  Have  you  ever  sought  for  reasons 


46  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

to  account  for  your  feeling  toward  me  ?  Is  it  not  something 
that  does  not  seem  to  depend  upon  what  I  am, — upon  any 
qualities  that  distinguish  me  from  other  women  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  know  so  much  ?  "  Elwood  asked.  "  Have 
you —  '  He  commenced,  but  did  not  finish  the  question. 
He  leaned  silently  forward,  urged  on  the  horse,  and  Lucy 
could  see  that  his  face  was  very  stern. 

"  They  say,"  she  began,  on  finding  that  he  was  not  inclined 
to  speak, — "  they  say  that  women  have  a  natural  instinct 
which  helps  them  to  understand  many  things ;  and  I  think 
it  must  be  true.  "Why  can  you  not  spare  me  the  demand 
for  reasons  which  I  have  not  ?  If  I  were  to  take  time,  o.nd 
consider  it,  and  try  to  explain,  it  would  be  of  no  help  to  you :  it 
would  not  change  the  fact.  I  suppose  a  man  feels  humiliated 
when  this  trouble  comes  upon  him.  He  shows  his  heart,  and 
there  seems  to  be  a  claim  upon  the  woman  of  his  choice  to 
show  hers  in  return.  The  sense  of  injustice  is  worse  than 
humiliation,  Elwood.  Though  I  cannot,  cannot  do  otherwise, 
I  shall  always  have  the  feeling  that  I  have  wronged  you." 

"  O  Lucy,"  he  murmured,  in  a  very  sad,  but  not  reproach- 
ful voice,  "every  word  you  say,  in  showing  me  that  I  must 
give  you  up,  only  makes  it  more  impossible  to  rne.  And  it 
is  just  impossible, — that's  the  end  of  the  matter!  I  know 
how  people  talk  about  trials  being  sent  us  for  our  good,  and 
its  being  the  will  of  God,  and  all  that.  It's  a  trial,  that's 
true :  whether  it's  for  my  good  or  not,  I  shall  learn  after  a 
while ;  but  I  can  find  out  God's  will  only  by  trying  the 
strength  of  my  own.  Don't  be  afeared,  Lucy !  I've  no 
notion  of  saying  or  doing  anything  from  this  time  on  to  dis- 
turb you,  but  here  you  are  "  (striking  his  breast  with  his 
clenched  hand),  "and  here  you  will  be  when  the  day  conies, 
as  I  feel  that  it  must  and  shall  come,  to  bring  us  together !  " 


47 

She  could  see  the  glow  of  his  face  in  the  gathering  dusk, 
as  he  turned  towards  her  and  offered  his  hand.  How  could 
she  help  taking  it?  If  some  pulse  in  her  own  betrayed  the 
thrill  of  admiring  recognition  of  the  man's  powerful  and 
tender  nature,  whieh  suddenly  warmed  her  oppressed  blood, 
she  did  not  fear  that  IK.'  would  draw  courage  from  the  token. 
She  wished  to  speak,  but  found  no  words  which,  coming 
after  his,  would  not  have  seemed  either  cold  and  unsympa- 
thetic, or  too  near  the  verge  of  the  hope  which  she  would 
gladly  have  crushed. 

Ehvood  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  hardly  appeared  to  be 
awaiting  an  answer.  Meanwhile  the  road  left  the  valley, 
climbing  the  shoulders  of  its  enclosing  hills,  where  the  moist 
meadow  fragrance  was  left  behind,  and  dry,  warm  breezes, 
filled  with  the  peculiar  smell  of  the  wheat-fields,  blew  over 
them.  It  was  but  a  mile  farther  to  the  Corner,  near  which 
Lucy's  parents  resided. 

"  How  came  you  three  to  go  to  Joseph's  place  this  after- 
noon ?  "  he  asked.  "  Wasn't  it  a  dodge  of  Miss  Blessing's  ?  " 

"  She  proposed  it, — partly  in  play,  I  think  ;  and  when  she 
afterwards  insisted  on  our  going,  there  seemed  to  be  no  good 
reason  for  refusing." 

"  O,  of  course  not,",  said  Elwood ;  "  but  tell  me  now, 
honestly,  Lucy,  what  do  you  make  out  of  her  ?  " 

Lucy  hesitated  a  moment.  "  She  is  a  little  wilful  in  her 
ways,  perhaps,  but  we  mustn't  judge  too  hastily.  "We  have 
known  her  such  a  short  time.  Her  manner  is  very  amiable." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Elwood  remarked.  "  It  re- 
minds me  of  one  of  her  dresses, — so  ruffled,  and  puckered, 
and  stuck  over  with  ribbons  and  things,  that  you  can't 
rightly  tell  what  the  stuff  is.  I'd  like  to  be  sure  whether 
she  has  an  eyo  to  Joseph." 


48  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FKIEXD. 

"  To  him  !  "  Lucy  exclaimed. 

"  Him  first  and  foremost  !  He's  as  innocent  as  a  year-old 
baby.  There  isn't  a  better  fellow  living  than  Joseph  Asten, 
but  his  bringing  up  has  been  fitter  for  a  girl  than  a  boy.  He 
hasn't  had  his  eye-teeth  cut  yet,  and  it's  my  opinion  that  she 
has." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  No  harm.  Used  to  the  world,  as  much  as  anything  else. 
He  don't  know  how  to  take  people ;  he  thinks  th'  outside 
color  runs  down  to  the  core.  So  it  does  with  him;  but  I 
can't  see  what  that  girl  is,  under  her  pleasant  ways,  and  he 
won't  guess  that  there's  anything  else  of  her.  Between 
ourselves,  Lucy, — you  don't  like  her.  I  saw  that  when  you 
came  away,  though  you  were  kissing  each  other  at  the  time." 

"  What  a  hypocrite  I  must  be ! "  cried  Lucy,  rather 
fiercely. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Women  kiss  as  men  shake  hands.  You 
don't  go  around,  saying,  '  Julia  dear  ! '  like  Anna  Warriner." 

Lucy  could  not  help  laughing.  "  There,"  she  said,  "  that's 
enough,  Elwood !  I'd  rather  you  would  think  yourself  in 
the  right  than  to  say  anything  more  about  her  this  evening." 

She  sighed  wearily,  not  attempting  to  conceal  her  fatigue 
and  depression. 

"  Well,  well !  "  he  replied ;  "  I'll  pester  you  no  more  with 
disagreeable  subjects.  There's  the  house,  now,  and  you'll 
soon  be  rid  of  me.  I  won't  tell  you,  Lucy,  that  if  you  ever 
want  for  friendly  service,  you  must  look  to  me, — because  I'm 
afeared  you  won't  feel  free  to  do  it ;  but  you'll  take  all  I 
can  find  to  do  without  your  asking." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  drew  up  his  horse  at 
the  gate  of  her  home,  handed  her  out,  said  "  Good  night !  " 
and  drove  away. 


S'.ich  a  singular  restlessness  took  possession  of  Joseph, 
after  the  departure  of  his  giiests,  th  it  the  evening  quiet  of 
the  farm  became  intolerable.  Hi1  s 
out  for  the  village,  readily  invent 
plained  the  ride  to  himself  as  veil  ; 

The  regular  movements  of  the  animal  did  not  banish  the 
unquiet  motions  of  his  mind,  but  ic  relieved  him  by  giving 
them  a  wider  sweep  and  a  more  definite  form.  The  man 
who  walks  is  subject  to  the  power  of  his  Antreus  of  a  body, 
moving  forwards  only  bv  means  of  the  weight  which  holds  it 

O  *  <u  O 

to  the  earth.  There  is  a  clog  upon  all  his  thoughts,  an  ever- 
present  sense  of  restriction  and  impotence.  But  when  he  is 
lifted  above  the  soil,  with  the  air  under  his  foot-soles,  swiftly 
moving  without  effort,  his  mind,  a  poising  Mercury,  mounts 
on  winged  heels.  He  feels  the  liberation  of  new  and  nimble 
powers ;  wider  horizons  stretch  around  his  inward  vision ; 
obstacles  are  measured  or  overlooked;  the  brute  strength 
under  him  charges  his  whole  nature  with  a  more  vigorous 
electricity. 

The  fresh,  warm,  healthy  vital  force  which  filled  Joseph's 
body  to  the  last  embranchment  of  every  nerve  and  vein — 
the  hum  of  those  multitudinous  spirits  of  life,  which,  while 
building  their  glorioxis  abode,  march  as  if  in  triumphant  pro- 
cession through  its  secret  passages,  and  summon  all  the  fair- 
est phantoms  of  sense  to  their  completed  chambers — consti 
tuted,  far  more  than  he  suspected,  an  element  of  his  disturb- 
ance. This  was  the  strong  pinion  on  which  his  mind  and 
soul  hung  balanced,  above  the  close  atmosphere  which  he 
seemed  to  ride  away  from,  as  he  rode.  The  great  joy  of  hu- 
man life  filled  and  thrilled  him ;  all  possibilities  of  action  and 
pleasure  and  emotion  swam  before  his  sight ;  all  he  had  read 
or  heard  of  individual  careers  in  all  ages,  climates,  and  con- 


50  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FKIKXD. 

difcions  of  the  race — dazxling  pictures  of  the  myriad-sided 
earth,  to  be  won  by  whosoever  dared  arbitrarily  to  seize  the 
freedom  waiting  for  his  grasp — floated  through  his  brain. 

Hitherto  a  conscience  not  born  of  his  own  nature, — a  very 
fair  and  saintly- visage d  jailer  of  thought,  but  a  jailer  nono 
the  less, — had  kept  strict  guard  over  every  outward  move- 
ment of  his  mind,  gently  touching  hope  and  desire  and  con- 
jecture when  they  reached  a  certain  line,  and  saying,  "  No  ; 
no  farther :  it  is  prohibited."  But  now,  with  one  strong, 
involuntary  throb,  he  found  himself  beyond  the  line,  with 
all  the  ranges  ever  trodden  by  man  stretching  forward  to 
a  limitless  horizon.  He  rose  in  his  stirrups,  threw  out  his 
arms,  lifted  his  face  towards  the  sky,  and  cried,  "  God !  I  see 
what  I  am  !  " 

It  was  only  a  glimpse, — like  that  of  a  landscape  struck  in 
golden  fire  by  lightning,  from  the  darkness.  "  What  is  it," 
he  mused,  "  that  stands  between  me  and  this  vision  of  life  ? 
Who  built  a  wall  of  imaginary  law  around  these  needs,  which 
are  in  themselves  inexorable  laws  ?  The  World,  the  Flesh, 
and  the  Devil,  they  say  in  warning.  Bright,  boundless 
world,  my  home,  my  play-ground,  my  battle-field,  my  king- 
dom to  be  conquered  !  And  this  body  they  tell  me  to  de- 
spise,— this  perishing  house  of  clay,  which  is  so  intimately 
myself  that  its  comfort  and  delight  cheer  me  to  the  inmost 
soul :  it  is  a  dwelling  fit  for  an  angel  to  inhabit !  Shall  not 
its  hungering  senses  all  be  fed?  Who  shall  decide  for  me 
— if  not  myself — on  their  claims? — who  can  judge  for  me 
what  strength  requires  to  be  exercised,  what  pleasure  to  be 
enjoyed,  what  growth  to  be  forwarded  ?  All  around  me, 
everywhere,  are  the  means  of  gratification, — I  have  but  to 
reach  forth  my  hand  and  grasp;  but  a  narrow  cell,  built 
ages  ago,  encloses  me  wherever  I  go ! " 


51 

Such  was  the  vague  substance  of  his  thoughts.  Tt  was  the 
old  struggle  between  life — primitive,  untamed  life,  as  the 
first  man  may  have  felt  it — and  its  many  masters  :  assertion 
»nd  resistance,  all  the  more  fierce  because  so  many  influences 
laid  their  hands  upon  its  forces.  As  he  came  back  to  his 
usual  self,  refreshed  by  this  temporary  escape,  Joseph  won- 
dered whether  other  men  shared  the  same  longing  and  impa- 
tience ;  and  this  turned  his  musings  into  another  channel. 
"  Why  do  men  so  carefully  conceal  what  is  deepest  and 
strongest  in  their  natures  ?  Why  is  so  little  of  spiritual 
struggle  and  experience  ever  imparted  ?  The  convert  publicly 
admits  his  sinful  experience,  and  tries  to  explain  the  entrance 
of  grace  into  his  regenerated  nature  ;  the  reformed  drunkard 
seems  to  take  a  positive  delight  in  making  his  former  condi- 
tion degraded  and  loathsome ;  but  the  opening  of  the  indi- 
vidual life  to  the  knowledge  of  power  and  passion  and  all  the 
possibilities  of  the  world  is  kept  more  secret  than  sin.  Love 
is  hidden  as  if  it  were  a  reproach ;  friendship  watched,  lest 
it  express  its  warmth  too  frankly;  joy  and  grief  and  doubt 
and  anxiety  repressed  as  much  as  possible.  A  great  lid  is 
shut  down  upon  the  human  race.  They  must  painfully  stoop 
and  creep,  instead  of  standing  erect  with  only  God's  heaven 
over  their  heads.  I  am  lonely,  but  I  know  not  how  to  cry 
for  companionship  ;  my  words  would  not  be  understood,  or, 
if  they  were,  would  not  be  answered.  Only  one  gate  is  free 
to  me, — that  leading  to  the  love  of  woman.  There,  at  least, 
must  be  such  an  intense,  intimate  sympathy  as  shall  make 
the  reciprocal  revelation  of  the  lives  possible  !  " 

Full  of  this  single  certainty,  which,  the  more  he  pondered 
upon  it,  seemed  to  be  his  nearest  chance  of  help,  Joseph  rode 
slowly  homewards.  Rachel  Miller,  who  had  impatiently 
awaited  his  corring,  remarked  the  abstraction  of  his  face,  and 


52  JOBKI'lI    AND    HIS    FKIKJvD. 

attributed  it  to  a  very  different  ca\ise.  She  was  thereby 
wonderfully  strengthened  to  make  her  communication  in 
regard  to  the  evening  company  ;  nevertheless,  the  subject 
was  so  slowly  approached  and  so  ambiguously  alluded  to, 
that  Joseph  could  not  immediately  understand  it. 

"  That  is  something  !  That  is  a  step ! "  he  said  to  him- 
self; then  turning  towards  her  with  a  genuine  satisfaction  in 
his  face,  added:  "Aunt,  do  yoii  know  that  1  have  never 
really  felt  until  now  that  I  am  the  owner  of  this  property  ? 
It  will  be  more  of  a  home  to  me  after  I  have  received  the 
neighborhood  as  my  guests.  It  has  always  controlled  me, 
but  now  it  must  serve  me." 

He  laughed  in  great  good-humor,  and  Rachel  Miller,  in 
her  heart,  thanked  Miss  Julia  Blessing. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   KKIEM).  53 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IX    THE    GARDEN". 

RACHEL  MILLER  was  not  a  woman  to  do  a  tiling  by  halves. 
As  soon  as  the  question  was  settled,  she  gave  her  heart  and 
mind  to  the  necessary  preparations.  There  might  have  been 
a  little  surprise  in  some  quarters,  when  the  fact  became 
known  in  the  neighborhood  through  Joseph's  invitation,  but 
no  expression  of  it  reached  the  Asten  place.  Mrs.  "Warriner, 
Anna's  mother,  called  to  inquire  if  she  could  be  of  service, 
and  also  to  suggest,  indirectly,  her  plan  of  entertaining  com- 
pany. Rachel  detected  the  latter  purpose,  and  was  a  little 
more  acquiescent  than  could  have  been  justified  to  her  own 
conscience,  seeing  that  at  the  very  moment  when  she  was 
listening  with  much  apparent  meekness,  she  was  mentally 
occupied  with  plans  for  outdoing  Mrs.  Warriner.  Moreover, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  had  graciously  signified  his  willing- 
ness to  be  present,  and  the  stamp  of  strictest  orthodoxy  was 
thus  set  upon  the  entertainment.  She  was  both  assured  and 
stimulated,  as  the  time  drew  near,  and  even  surprised  Joseph 
by  saying :  "  If  I  was  better  acquainted  with  Miss  Blessing, 
she  might  help  me  a  good  deal  in  fixing  everything  just  as  it 
should  be.  There  are  times,  it  seems,  when  it 's  an  advan- 
tage to  know  something  of  the  world." 

"  I'll  ask  her  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  You  !  And  a  mess  you'd  make  of  it,  very  likely ;  men 
think  they've  only  to  agree  to  invite  a  company,  and  that's 
all !  There's  a  hundred  things  to  be  thought  of  that  women 


54:  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIKXD. 

must  look  to;  yon  couldn't  even  understand 'em.  As  for 
speaking  to  her, — she's  one  of  the  im'ites,  and  it  would  never 
do  in  the  world." 

Joseph  said  no  more,  but  he  silently  determined  to  ask 
Miss  Blessing  on  her  arrival ;  there  would  still  be  time. 
She,  with  her  wonderful  instinct,  her  power  of  accommo- 
dating people  to  each  other,  and  the  influence  which  she  had 
already  acquired  with  his  aunt,  would  certainly  see  at  a 
glance  how  the  current  was  setting,  and  guide  it  in  the 
proper  direction. 

But,  as  the  day  drew  near,  he  grew  so  restless  and 
uneasy  that  there  seemed  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  ride 
over  to  Warriner'a  in  the  hope  of  catching  a  moment's  con- 
ference with  her,  in  advance  of  the  occasion. 

He  was  entirely  fortunate.  Anna  was  apparently  very 
busy  with  household  duties,  and  after  the  first  greetings  left 
him  alone  with  Miss  Blessing.  He  had  anticipated  a  little 
difficulty  in  making  his  message  known,  and  was  therefore 
much  relieved  when  she  said :  "  Now,  Mr.  Asten,  I  see  by 
your  face  that  you  have  something  particular  to  say.  It's 
about  to-morrow  night,  isn't  it  ?  You  must  let  me  help  you, 
if  I  can,  because  I  am  afraid  I  have  been,  without  exactly 
intending  it,  the  cause  of  so  much  trouble  to  you  and  your 
aunt." 

Joseph  opened  his  heart  at  once.  All  that  he  had  meant 
to  say  came  easily  and  naturally  to  his  lips,  because  Miss 
Blessing  seemed  to  feel  and  understand  the  situation,  and 
met  him  half- way  in  her  bright,  cheerful  acquiescence. 
Almost  before  he  knew  it,  he  had  made  her  acquainted  with 
what  had  been  said  and  done  at  home.  How  easily  she 
solved  the  absurd  doubts  and  difficulties  which  had  so  un- 
necessarily tormented  him  !  How  clearly,  through  her  fine 


55 

female  instinct,  she  grasped  little  peculiarities  of  his  aunt's 
nature,  which  he,  after  ye;irs  of  close  companionship,  had 
failed  to  define!  Miss  llachel,  she  said,  was  both  shy  and 
inexperienced,  and  it  was  only  the  struggle  to  conceal  theso 
conscious  defects  which  made  her  seem — not  unamiable, 
exactly,  but  irregular  in  her  manner.  Her  age,  and  her 
character  in  the  neighborhood,  did  not  permit  her  to  appear 
incompetent  to  any  emergency ;  it  was  a  very  natural  pride, 
and  must  be  treated  very  delicately  and  tenderly. 

Would  Joseph  trust  the  matter  entirely  to  her,  Miss 
Blessing  ?  It  was  a  great  deal  to  ask,  she  knew,  com- 
parative stranger  as  she  was ;  but  she  believed  that  a 
woman,  when  her  nature  had  not  been  distorted  by  the  con- 
ventionalities of  life,  had  a  natural  talent  for  smoothing  dif- 
ficulties, and  removing  obstacles  for  others.  Her  friends  had 
told  her  that  she  possessed  this  power ;  and  it  was  a  great 
happiness  to  think  so.  In  the  present  case,  she  was  sure  she 
should  make  no  mistake.  She  would  endeavor  not  to  seem 
to  suggest  anything,  but  merely  to  assist  in  such  a  way  that 
Miss  llachel  would  of  herself  see  what  else  was  necessary  to 
be  done. 

"  Now,"  she  remarked,  in  conclusion,  "  this  sounds  like 
vanity  in  me ;  but  I  really  hope  it  is  not.  You  must  re- 
member that  in  the  city  we  are  obliged  to  know  all  the  little 
social  arts, — and  artifices,  I  am  afraid.  It  is  not  always  to 
our  credit,  but  then,  the  heart  may  be  kept  fresh  and  uncor- 
rupted." 

She  sighed,  and  cast  down  her  eyes.  Joseph  felt  the  in- 
creasing charm  of  a  nature  so  frank  and  so  trustful,  con- 
stantly luring  to  the  surface  the  maiden  secrets  of  his  own. 
The  confidence  already  established  between  them  was  wholly 
delightful,  because  their  sense  of  reciprocity  increased  as  it 


56  JOSEPH    AM)    Jllrt    FKIKM). 

deepened.  He  felt  so  free  to  speak  that  he  could  not 
measure  the  fitness  of  his  words,  hut  exclaimed,  without  a 
pause  for  thought : — 

"  Tell  me,  Miss  Julia,  did  you  not  suggest  this  party  to 
Aunt  Each  el  ?  " 

"  Don't  give  me  too  much  credit !  "  she  answered  ;  "  it 
was  talked  ahout,  and  I  couldn't  help  saying  Ay.  I  longed 
so  much  to  see  you — all — again  before  I  go  away." 

"  And  Lucy  Henderson  objected  to  it  V  " 

"  Lucy,  I  think,  wanted  to  save  your  aunt  trouble.  Per- 
haps she  did  not  guess  that  the  real  objection  was  inex- 
perience, and  not  want  of  will  to  entertain  company.  And 
very  likely  she  helped  to  bring  it  about,  by  seeming  to 
oppose  it ;  so  you  must  not  be  angry  with  Lucy, — promise 
me  !  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  irresistibly  entreating  expres- 
sion, and  extended  her  hand,  which  he  seized  so  warmly  as  to 
give  her  pain.  But  she  returned  the  pressure,  and  there  was 
a  moment's  silence,  which  Anna  Warriuer  interrupted  at  the 
right  time. 

The  next  day,  011  the  Asten  farm,  all  the  preparations 
were  quietly  and  successfully  made  long  in  advance  of  the 
first  arrivals.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  and  a  few  other 
specially  chosen  guests  made  their  appearance  in  the  after- 
noon. To  Joseph's  surprise,  the  Warriiiers  and  Miss  Bless- 
ing speedily  joined  them.  It  was,  in  reality,  a  private  ar- 
rangement which  his  aunt  had  made,  in  order  to  secure  at 
the  start  the  very  assistance  which  he  had  been  plotting  to 
render.  One  half  the  secret  of  the  ease  and  harmony 
which  he  felt  was  established  was  thus  unknown  to  him.  He 
looked  for  hints  or  indications  of  management  on  Miss 
Blessing's  part,  but  saw  none.  The  two  women,  meeting 


•>  t 

each  other  half-way,  needed  no  words  in  order  to  understand 
eacli  other,  and  [Miss  .Rachel,  gradually  made  secure  in  her 
part  of  hostess,  experienced  a  most  unaccustomed  sense  of 
triumph. 

At  the  supper-table  Mr.  Chaffinch  asked  a  blessing  with 
fervor;  a  great,  balmy  dish  of  chickens  stewed  in  cream  was 
smoking  before  his  nostrils,  and  his  fourth  cup  of  tea  made 
Rachel  Miller  supremely  happy.  The  meal  was  honored  in 
silence,  as  is  the  case  where  there  is  much  to  cat  and  a 
proper  desire  and  capacity  to  do  it ;  only  towards  its  close 
were  the  tongues  of  the  guests  loosened,  and  content  made 
them  cheerful. 

"  You  have  entertained  us  almost  too  sumptuously,  Miss 
Miller,"  said  the  clergyman.  "  And  now  let  us  go  out 
on  the  portico,  and  welcome  the  young  people  as  they  ar- 
rive." 

"  I  need  hardly  ask  you,  then,  Mr.  Chaffinch,"  said  she, 
"  whether  you  think  it  right  for  them  to  come  together  in 
this  way." 

"  Decidedly  !  "  he  answered  ;  "  that  is,  so  long  as  their 
conversation  is  modest  and  becoming.  It  is  easy  for  the 
vanities  of  the  world  to  slip  in,  but  we  must  watch, — we 
must  watch." 

Rachel  Miller  took  a  seat  near  him,  beholding  the  gates 
of  perfect  enjoyment  opened  to  her  mind.  Dress,  the 
opera,  the  race-course,  literature,  stocks,  politics,  have  their 
fascination  for  so  many  several  classes  of  the  human  race ; 
but  to  her  there  was  nothing  on  this  earth  so  delightful 
as  to  be  told  of  temptation  and  backsliding  and  sin,  and  to 
feel  that  she  was  still  secure.  The  fact  that  there  was 
always  danger  added  a  zest  to  the  feeling  ;  she  gave  herself 

credit  for  a  vigilance  which  had  really  not  been  exercised. 
3* 


58  JOSEPH    AM)    HIS    FKTKND. 

The  older  guests  moved  their  chairs  nearer,  and  listened, 
forgetting  the  sweetness  of  sunset  which  lay  upon  the  hills 
down  the  valley.  Anna  "Wavriiier  laid  her  arm  around  Miss 
Chaffinch's  waist,  and  drew  her  towards  the  mown  field  be- 
yond the  barn ;  and  presently,  by  a  natural  chance,  as  it 
seemed,  Joseph  found  himself  beside  Miss  Blessing,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  lawn. 

All  the  western  hills  were  covered  with  one  cool,  broad 
shadow.  A  rich  orange  flush  touched  the  tops  of  the  woods 
to  the  eastward,  and  brightened  as  the  sky  above  them 
deepened  into  the  violet-gray  of  coming  dusk.  The  moist} 
delicious  freshness  which  filled  the  bed  of  the  valley  slowly 
crept  up  the  branching  glen,  and  already  tempered  the  air 
about  them.  Now  and  then  a  bird  chirped  happily  from  a 
neighboring  bush,  or  the  low  of  cattle  was  heard  from  the 
pasture-fields. 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Miss  Blessing,  "  this  is  too  sweet  to  last : 
I  must  learn  to  do  without  it." 

She  looked  at  him  swiftly,  and  then  glanced  away.  It 
seemed  that  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Joseph  was  about  to  speak,  but  she  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm.  "  Hush  !  "  she  said  ;  "  let  us  wait  until  the  light  has 
faded." 

The  glow  had  withdrawn  to  the  summits  of  the  distant 
hills,  fringing  them  with  a  thin,  wonderful  radiance.  But  it 
was  only  momentary.  The  next  moment  it  broke  on  the  ir- 
regular topmost  boughs,  and  then  disappeared,  as  if  blown 
out  by  a  breeze  which  came  with  the  sudden  lifting  of  the  sky. 
She  turned  away  in  silence,  and  they  walked  slowly  together 
towards  the  house.  At  the  garden  gate  she  paused. 

"  That  superb  aveniie  of  box  !  "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  I  must 
see  it  again,  if  only  to  say  farewell." 


Th'-y  entvr>-d  the  garden,  raid  In  a  moment  the  dense  creen 
\vall,  breathing  an  odor  seductive  to  In-art  and  senses,  had 
hidden  them  from  the  sight — and  almost  from  the  hear- 
ing— of  the  guests  on  the  portk-o.  Looking  down  ihrough 
the  southern  opening  of  the  avenue,  they  seemed  alone  in 
the  evening  valley. 

Joseph's  heart  was  beating  fast  and  strong;  lie  was  con- 
scious of  a  wild  fear,  so  interfused  with  pleasure,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  separate  the  sensations.  Miss  Bless- 
ing's hand  was  on  his  arm,  and  he  fancied  that  it  trembled. 

'%  If  life  were  as  beautiful  and  peaceful  as  this,"  she 
whispered,  at  last,  "  we  should  not  need  to  .seek  for  truth 
and— and — sympathy  :  we  should  find  them  everywhere." 

"  Do  you  not  think  they  are  to  be  found  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  O,  in  how  few  hearts  !  I  can  say  it  to  you,  and  you 
will  not  misunderstand  me.  Until  lately  I  was  satisfied  with 
life  as  I  found  it :  I  thought  it  meant  diversion,  and  dress, 
and  gossip,  and  common  daily  duties,  but  now — now  I  see. 
that  it  is  the  union  of  kindred  souls  !  " 

She  clasped  both  her  hands  over  his  arm  as  she  spoke,  and 
leaned  slightly  towards  him,  as  if  drawing  away  from,  the 
dreary,  homeless  world.  Joseph  felt  all  that  the  action  ex- 
pressed, and  answered  in  an  unsteady  voice  : — 

"  And  yet — with  a  nature  like  yours — you  must  surely 
find  them." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly,  and  answered  :  "  Ah,  a  woman 
cannot  seek.  I  never  thought  I  should  be  able  to  say — to 
any  human  being — that  I  have  sought,  or  waited  for  recogni- 
tion. I  do  not  know  why  I  should  say  it  now.  I  try  to  be  my-* 
self— my  true  self — with  all  persons  ;  but  it  seems  impossible  : 
my  nature  shrinks  from  some  and  is  drawn  towards  others. 
Why  is  this?  What  is  the  mystery  that  surrounds  us?" 


GO  JOSKI'II    A.ND    His    FJUKNJ). 

"  Do  you  believe,"  Joseph  asked,  "  that  l\vo  souls  may  be 
so  united  that  they  shall  dare  to  surrender  all  knowledge  of 
themselves  to  each  other,  as  we  do,  helplessly,  before  God?" 

"  O,"  she  murniured,  "  it  is  my  dream  !  1  thought  I  was 
alone  in  cherishing  it  !  Can  it  ever  be  realized  ?  " 

Joseph's  brain  grew  hot :  the  release  he  had  invoked 
sprang  to  life  and  urged  him  forward.  AVords  came  to  his 
lips,  he  knew  not  how. 

"  If  it  is  my  dream  and  yours, — if  we  both  have  come  to 
the  faith  and  the  hope  we  lind  in  no  others,  and  which  alone 
•will  satisfy  our  lives,  is  it  not  a  sign  that  the  dream  is  over 
and  the  reality  has  begun  ?  " 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  "Do  not  tempt  me  with 
what  I  had  given  up,  unless  you  can  teach  me  to  believe 
again  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  I  do  not  tempt  you,"  he  answered  breathlessly.  "  I 
tempt  myself.  I  believe." 

She  turned  suddenly,  laid  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  lifted 
her  face  and  looked  into  his  eyes  with  an  expression  of 
passionate  eagerness  and  joy.  All  her  attitude  breathed  of 
the  pause  of  the  wave  that  only  seems  to  hesitate  an  instant 
before  throwing  itself  upon  the  waiting  strand.  Joseph  had 
no  defence,  knew  of  none,  dreamed  of  none.  The  pale- 
brown  eyes,  now  dark,  deep,  and  almost  tearful,  drew  him 
with  irresistible  force  :  the  sense  of  his  own  shy  reticent 
self  was  lost,  dissolved  in  the  strength  of  an  instinct  which 
possessed  him  body  and  soul, — which  bent  him  nearer  to  the 
slight  form,  which  stretched  his  arms  to  answer  its  appeal, 
and  left  him,  after  one  dizzy  moment,  with  Miss  Blessing's 
head  upon  his  breast. 

"  I  should  like  to  die  now,"  she  murmured  :  "  I  never  can 
be  so  happy  again." 


01 

"  Xo,  no,"  said  lie,  bending  over  her;   "live  for  me!" 

She  raised  herself,  and  kissed  him  again  and  again,  and 
this  frank,  almost  ehihllikc  betrayal  of  her  heart  scorned  to 
claim  from  Joseph  the  full  surrender  of  his  own.  lie  re- 
turned her  caresses  \vith  e.'jual  warmth,  and  the  tvrilight 
deepened  around  them  as  tlie.y  stood,  still  half-embracing. 

"  Can  I  make  you  happy,  Joseph?  " 

"Julia,  I  am  already  happier  than  I  ever  thought  it  pos- 
sible to  be." 

"With  a  sudden  impulse  she  drew  away  from  him. 
"  Joseph  !  "  she  whispered,  "  will  you  always  bear  in  mind 
what  a  cold,  selfish,  worldly  life  mine  has  been  ?  You  do 
not  know  me ;  you  cannot  understand  the  school  in  which  I. 
have  been  taught.  I  tell  you,  now,  that  I  have  had  to  learn, 
cunning  and  artifice  and  equivocation.  I  am  dark  beside  a 
nature  so  pure  and  good  as  yours !  If  you  must  ever  learn 
to  hate  me,  begin  now  !  Take  back  your  love  :  I  have  lived 
so  long  without  the  love  of  a  noble  human  heart,  that  I  can 
live  so  to  the  end  !  " 

She  again  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  her  frame 
shrank,  as  if  dreading  a  mortal  blosv.  But  Joseph  caught 
her  back  to  his  breast,  touched  and  even  humiliated  by  such 
sharp  self-accusation.  Presently  she  looked  up :  her  eyes 
were  wet,  and  she  said,  with  a  pitiful  smile : — 

"  I  believe  you  do  love  me." 

"  And  I  will  not  give  you  up,"  said  Joseph,  "  though  you 
should  be  full  of  evil  as  I  am,  myself." 

She  laughed,  and  patted  his  cheek  :  all  her  frank,  bright, 
winning  manner  returned  at  once.  Then  commenced  those 
reciprocal  expressions  of  bliss,  which  are  so  inexhaustibly 
fresh  to  lovers,  so  endlessly  monotonous  to  everybody  else  ; 
and  Joseph,  lost  to  time,  place,  and  circumstance,  would 


63  JOPKPH    AND    HIS    FRIKXD. 

have  prolonged  tliem  far  into  the  night,  but  for  Miss  Julia's 
returning  self-possession. 

"  1  hear  wheels,"  she  warned  ;  "  the  evening  guests  are 
coming,  and  they  will  expect  you  to  receive  them,  Joseph. 
And  your  dear,  good  old  aunt  will  bo  looking  for  me..  O, 
the  world,  the  world  !  We  must  give  ourselves  up  to  it,  and 
be  as  if  we  had  never  found  each  other.  I  shall  be  wild  un- 
less you  set  me  an  example  of  self-control.  Let  me  look  at 
you  once, — one  full,  precious,  perfect  look,  to  carry  in  my 
heart  through  the  evening  !  " 

Then  they  looked  in  each  other's  faces  ;  and  looking  was 
not  enough  ;  and  their  lips,  without  the  use  of  words,  said 
the  temporary  farewell.  While  Joseph  hurried  across  the 
bottom  of  the  lawn,  to  meet  the  stream  of  approaching 
guests  which  filled  the  lane,  Miss  Julia,  at  the  top  of  the 
garden,  plucked  amaranth  leaves  for  a  wreath  which  would 
look  well  upon  her  dark  hair,  and  sang,  in  a  voice  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  from  the  portico  : — 

"Ever  be  happy,  light  as  thou  art, 
Pride  of  the  pirate's  heart !  " 

Eveiybody  who  had  been  invited — and  quite  a  number 
who  had  not  been,  availing  themselves  of  the  easy  habits 
of  country  society — came  to  the  Asten  farm  that  evening. 
Joseph,  as  host,  seemed  at  times  a  little  confused  and 
flurried,  but  his  face  bloomed,  his  blue  eyes  sparkled, 
and  even  his  nearest  acquaintances  were  astonished  at 
the  courage  and  cordiality  with  which  he  performed  his 
duties.  The  presence  of  Mr.  Chaffinch  kept  the  gayety  of 
the  company  within  decorous  bounds ;  perhaps  the  number 
of  detached  groups  appeared  to  form  too  many  separate 
circles,  or  atmospheres  of  talk,  but  they  easily  dissolved,  or 
gave  to  and  took  from  each  other.  Rachel  Miller  was  not 


63 

iiu-lin'xl  to  act  tlif  part  of  a  moral  detective  in  the  house 
which  she  managed ;  she  saw  nothing  which  the  .strictest 
sense  of  propriety  could  cond  ".an. 

Early  in  the  evening.  Joseph  met  Lucy  Henderson  in  the 
hall.  He  could  not  see  the  grayer  change  in  her  face  ; 
he  only  noticed  that  her  manner  was  not  so  quietly  attractive 
as  usual.  Yet  on  meeting  her  eyes  he  felt  the  absurd  blood 
rushing  to  his  cheeks  and  brow,  and  his  tongue  hesitated  and 
stammered.  This  want  of  self-possession  vexed  him  ;  he  could 
not  account  for  it ;  and  he  cut  short  the  interview  by  moving 
abruptly  away. 

Lucy  half  turned,  and  looked  after  him,  with  an  expres- 
sion rather  of  surprise  than  of  pain.  As  she  did  so  she  felt 
that  there  was  an  eye  upon  her,  and  by  a  strong  effort 
entered  the  room  without  encountering  the  face  of  Elwood 
Withers. 

When  the  company  broke  up,  Miss  Blessing,  who  was 
obliged  to  leave  with  the  Warriners,  found  an  opportunity  to 
whisper  to  Joseph  :  "  Come  soon  !  "  There  was  a  long,  fer- 
vent clasp  of  hands  under  her  shawl,  and  then  the  carriage 
drove  away.  He  could  not  see  how  the  hand  was  transferred 
to  that  of  Anna  Warriner,  which  received  from  it  a 
squeeze  conveying  an  entire  narrative  to  that  young  lady's 
mind. 

Joseph's  duties  to  his  many  guests  prevented  him  from 
seeing  much  of  Elwood  during  the  evening  ;  but,  when  the 
last  were  preparing  to  leave,  he  turned  to  the  latter,  con- 
scious of  a  tenderer  feeling  of  friendship  than  he  had  ever 
before  felt,  and  begged  him  to  stay  for  the  night.  Elwood 
held  up  the  lantern,  with  which  lie  had  been  examining  the 
harness  of  a  carriage  that  had  just  rolled  away,  and  let  its 
light  fall  upon  Joseph's  face. 


C4  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FitlEXD. 

"  Do  you  really  moan  it  ?  "  he  then  asked, 

"I  don't  understand  you,  Elvvood." 

"  Perhaps  I  don't  understand  myself."  But  the  next  mo- 
ment he  laughed,  and  then  added,  in  his  usual  tone  :  "  Never 
mind  ;  I'll  stay." 

They  occupied  the  same  room  ;  and  neither  seemed  in- 
clined to  sleep.  After  the  company  had  been  discussed,  in  a 
way  which  both  felt  to  be  awkward  and  mechanical,  Elwood 
said :  "  Do  you  know  anything  more  about  love,  by  this 
time  ?  " 

Joseph  was  silent,  debating  with  himself  whether  he  should 
confide  the  wonderful  secret.  Elwood  suddenly  rose  xip  in 
his  bed,  leaned  forward,  and  whispered  :  "  I  see,— you  need 
not  answer.  But  tell  me  this  one  thing :  is  it  Lucy  Hender- 
son?" 

"No;  O,  no!" 

"  Does  she  know  of  it  ?  Your  face  told  some  sort  of  a 
tale  when  you  met  her  to-night." 

"  Not  to  her, — surely  not  to  her  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  I  hope  not,"  Elwood  quietly  said  :  "  I  love  her." 

"With  a  bound  Joseph  crossed  the  room  and  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  his  friend's  bed.  "  Elwood  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  and 
you  are  happy,  too  !  O,  now  I  can  tell  you  all, — it  is  Julia 
Blessing  !  " 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  "  Elwood  laughed, — a  short,  bitter  laugh, 
which  seemed  to  signify  anything  but  happiness.  "  Forgive 
me,  Joseph  !  "  he  presently  added,  "  but  there's  a  deal  of  dif- 
ference between  a  mitten  and  a  ring.  You  will  have  one 
and  I  have  the  other.  I  did  think  for  a  little  while  that  you 
stood  between  Lucy  and  me  ;  but  I  suppose  disappointment 
makes  men  fools." 

Something  in  Joseph's  breast  seemed  to  stop  the  warm 


G5 


'•  So  I  see, — and  perhaps  nobody  is,  except  myself.  "We 
won't  talk  of  this  any  more  ;  th'-re's  many  a  roundabout 
road  that  conies  out  into  the  straight  one  at  last.  But  you, 
• — 1  can't  understand  the  thing  at  ail.  How  did  she — did 
you  come  to  love  her  'J.  " 

"  I  dou't  know  ;  I  hardly  guessed  it  until  this  evening." 

"  Then,  Joseph,  go  slowly,  and  feel  your  way.  I'm  not 
the  one  to  advise,  after  what  has  happened  to  me  ;  but  maybe 
I  know  a  little  more  of  womankind  than  you.  It's  best  to 
have  a  longer  acquaintance  than  yours  has  been  ;  a  fellow 
can't  always  tell  a  sudden  fancy  from  a  love  that  has  the  grip 
of  death." 

"  Xow  I  might  turn  your  own  words  against  you,  Elwood, 
for  you  tried  to  tell  me  what  love  is." 

"  I  did  ;  and  before  I  knew  the  half.  But  come,  Joseph : 
promise  me  that  you  won' t  let  Miss  Blessing  know  how  much 
you  feel  until — " 

"  Elwood,"  Joseph  breathlessly  interrupted,  "  she  knows 
it  now  !  "We  were  together  this  evening." 

Elwood  fell  back  on  the  pillow  with  a  groan.  "  I'm  a 
poor  friend  to  you,"  he  said  :  "  I  want  to  -wish  you  joy,  but 
I  can't, —  not  to-night.  The  way  things  are  fixed  in  this 
world  stumps  me,  out  and  out.  Nothing  fits  as  it  ought,  and 
if  I  didn't  take  my  head  in  my  own  hands  and  hold  it  towards 
the  light  by  main  force,  I'd  only  see  blackness,  and  death, 
and  hell." 

Joseph  stole  back  to  his  bed,  and  lay  there  silently.  There 
was  a  subtle  chill  in  the  heart  of  his  happiness,  which  all  the 
remembered  glow  of  that  tender  scene  in  the  garden  could 
not  thaw. 


66  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FEIEND. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE    BLESSING   FAMILY. 

JOSEPH'S  secret  was  not  suspected  by  any  of  the  company. 
Elwood's  manner  towards  him  next  morning  was  warmer 
and  kinder  than  ever ;  the  chill  of  the  past  night  had  been 
forgotten,  and  the  betrothal,  which  then  almost  seemed  like 
a  fetter  upon  his  future,  now  gave  him  a  sense  of  freedom 
and  strength.  He  would  have  gone  to  Warriner's  at  once, 
but  for  the  fear  lest  he  should  betray  himself.  Miss  Bless- 
ing was  to  return  to  the  city  in  three  days  more,  and  a  single 
farewell  call  might  be  made  with  propriety ;  so  he  controlled 
his  impatience  and  allowed  another  day  to  intervene. 

When,  at  last,  the  hour  of  meeting  came,  Anna  Warriner 
proved  herself  an  efficient  ally.  Circumstances  were  against 
her,  yet  she  secured  the  lovers  a  few  minutes  in  which  they 
could  hold  each  other's  hands,  and  repeat  their  mutual  de- 
light, with  an  exquisite  sense  of  liberty  in  doing  so.  Miss 
Blessing  suggested  that  nothing  should  be  said  until  she  had 
acquainted  her  parents  with  the  engagement ;  there  might 
be  some  natural  difficulties  to  overcome ;  it  was  so  unex- 
pected, and  the  idea  of  losing  her  would  possibly  be  unwel- 
come, at  first.  She  would  write  in  a  few  days,  and  then 
Joseph  must  come  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  her  family. 

"  Then,"  she  added,  "  I  shall  have  no  fear.  When  they 
have  once  seen  you  all  difficulties  will  vanish.  There  will 
be  no  trouble  with  ma  and  sister  Clementina ;  but  pa  is 
sometimes  a  little  peculiar,  on  account  of  his  connections. 


There  !  don't  look  so  serious,  all  at  once ;  it  is  my  duty,  you 
know,  to  secure  you  a  loving  reception.  You  must  try  to 
feel  already  that  you  have  two  homes,  as  I  do." 

Joseph  waited  very  anxiously  for  the  promised  letter,  and 
in  ten  days  it  came  ;  it  was  brief,  but  satisfactory.  "  Would 
you  believe  it,  dear  Joseph,"  she  commenced,  "  pa  makes  no 
difficulty  !  he  only  requires  some  assurances  which  you  can 
very  easily  furnish.  Ma,  on  the  other  hand,  don't  like  the 
idea  of  giving  me  up.  I  can  hardly  say  it  without  seeming 
to  praise  myself;  but  Clementina  never  took  very  kindly  to 
housekeeping  and  managing,  and  even  if  I  were  only  indif- 
ferent in  those  branches,  I  should  be  missed.  It  really  went 
to  my  heart  when  ma  met  me  at  the  door,  and  cried  out, 
'  Now  I  shall  have  a  little  rest ! '  You  may  imagine  how 
hard  it  was  to  tell  her.  But  she  is  a  dear,  good  mother,  and 
I  know  she  will  be  so  happy  to  find  a  son  in  you — as  she 
certainly  will.  Come,  soon,- — soon  !  They  are  all  anxious 
to  know  you." 

The  city  was  not  so  distant  as  to  make  a  trip  thither  an 
unusual  event  for  the  young  farmers  of  the  neighborhood. 
Joseph  had  frequently  gone  there  for  a  day  in  the  interest  of 
his  sales  of  stock  and  grain,  and  he  found  no  difficulty  in  in- 
venting a  plausible  reason  for  the  journey.  The  train  at 
the  nearest  railway  station  transported  him  in  two  or  three 
hours  to  the  commencement  of  the  miles  of  hot,  dusty,  rat- 
tling pavements,  and  left  him  free  to  seek  for  the  brick  nest 
within  which  his  love  was  sheltered. 

Yet  now,  so  near  the  point  whence  his  new  life  was  to 
commence,  a  singular  unrest  took  possession  of  him.  He 
distinctly  felt  the  presence  of  two  forces,  acting  against  each 
other  with  nearly  equal  power,  but  without  neutralizing  their 
disturbing  influence.  He  was  developing  faster  than  he 


68  JOSEPH    AXl)    HIS    l-KIEM). 

guessed,  yet,  to  a  nature  like  liis,  the  last  knowledge  that 
comes  is  the  knowledge  of  self.  Some  occult  instinct  already 
whispered  that  his  life  thenceforth  would  be  stronger,  more 
independent,  but  also  more  disturbed  ;  and  this  was  what  he 
had  believed  was  wanting.  If  the  consciousness  of  loving 
and  being  loved  were  not  quite  the  same  in  experience  as  it 
had  seemed  to  his  ignorant  fancy,  it  was  yet  a  positive  hap- 
piness, and  wedlock  would  therefore  be  its  unbroken  con- 
tinuance. Julia  had  prepared  for  his  introduction  into  her 
family  ;  he  must  learn  to  accept  her  parents  and  sister  as  his 
own  ;  and  now  the  hour  and  the  opportunity  were  at  hand. 

What  was  it,  then,  that  struck  upon  his  breast  almost 
like  a  physical  pressure,  and  mysteriously  resisted  his  er- 
rand? When  he  reached  the  cross- street,  in  which,  many 
squares  to  the  northward,  the  house  was  to  be  found,  he 
halted  for  some  minutes,  and  then,  instead  of  turning,  kept 
directly  onward  toward  the  river.  The  sight  of  the  water, 
the  gliding  sails,  the  lusty  life  and  labor  along  the  piers, 
suddenly  refreshed  him.  Men  were  tramping  up  and  down 
the  gangways  of  the  clipper-ships ;  derricks  were  slowly 
swinging  over  the  sides  the  bales  and  boxes  which  had  been 
brought  up  from  the  holds  ;  drays  were  clattering  to  and  fro : 
wherever  he  turned  he  saw  a  picture  of  strength,  courage, 
reality,  solid  work.  The  men  that  went  and  came  took  life 
simply  as  a  succession  of  facts,  and  if  these  did  not  fit  smooth- 
ly into  each  other,  they  either  gave  themselves  no  trouble 
about  the  rough  edges,  or  drove  them  out  of  sight  with  a 
few  sturdy  blows.  What  Lucy  Henderson  had  said  about 
going  to  school  was  recalled  to  Joseph's  mind.  Here  was  a 
class  where  he  would  be  apt  to  stand  at  the  foot  for  many 
days.  Would  any  of  those  strapping  forms  comprehend  the 
disturbance  of  his  mind  ? — they  would  probably  advise  him 


G9 

to  go  to  the  nearest  apothecary-whop  and  purchase  a  few 
blue-pills.  The  longer  he  watclr'd  thorn,  the  more  he  felt  tho 
contagion  of  their  unimaginative,  faee-to-face  grapple  with 
life  :  the  manly  element  in  him.  checked  so  long,  began  to 
push  a  vigorous  shoot  towards  the  light. 

';  It  is  only  the  old  cowardice,  after  all,"  he  thought.  "  I 
am  still  shrinking  from  the  encounter  with  new  faces!  A 
lover,  soon  to  be  a  husband,  and  still  so  much  of  a  green 
youth  !  It  will  never  do.  I  must  learn  to  handle  my  duty 
as  that  stevedore  handles  a  barrel,  —take  hold  with  both 
hands,  push  and  trundle  and  guide,  till  the  weight  becomes 
a  mere  plaything.  There  !  —  he  starts  a  fresh  one,  — now 
for  mine  !  " 

Therewith  he  turned  about,  walked  sternly  back  to  the 
cross-street,  and  entered  it  without  pausing  at  the  corner. 
It  was  still  a  long  walk  ;  and  the  street,  with  its  uniform 
brick  houses,  with  white  shutters,  green  interior  blinds,  and 
white  marble  steps,  grew  more  silent  and  monotonous. 
There  was  a  mixed  odor  of  salt-fish,  molasses,  and  decaying 
oranges  at  every  corner ;  dark  wenches  lowered  the  nozzles 
of  their  jetting  hose  as  he  passed,  and  girls  in  draggled  cali- 
co frocks  turned  to  look  at  him  from  the  entrances  of  gloomy 
tunnels  leading  into  the  back  yards.  A  man  with  some- 
thing in  a  cart  uttered  from  time  to  time  a  piercing  unintelli- 
gible cry ;  barefooted  youngsters  swore  over  their  marbles 
on  the  sidewalk ;  and,  at  rare  intervals,  a  marvellous  mov- 
ing fabric  of  silks  and  colors  and  glosses  floated  past  him. 
But  he  paused  for  none  of  these.  His  heart  beat  faster,  and 
the  strange  resistance  seemed  to  increase  with  the  increas- 
ing numbers  of  houses,  now  rapidly  approaching  The  One — 
then  it  came  ! 

There  was  an  entire  block  of  narrow  three-storied  dwell- 


70  JOKEPJl    AXD    JUS    FUIEXD. 

ings,  with  crowded  windows  and  flat  roofs.  If  Joseph  had 
been  familiar  with  the  city,  lie  would  have  recognized  the 
air  of  cheap  gentility  which  exhaled  from  them,  and  which 
said,  as  plainly  as  if  the  words  had  been  painted  on  their 
fronts,  "  Here  we  keep  up  appearances  on  a  very  small  capi- 
tal." He  noticed  nothing,  however,  except  the  marble  steps 
and  the  front  doors,  all  of  which  were  alike  to  him  until  he 
came  upon  a  brass  plate  inscribed  "  B.  Blessing."  As  he 
looked  up  a  mass  of  dark  curls  vanished  with  a  start  from 
the  window.  The  door  suddenly  opened  before  he  could 
touch  the  bell-pull,  and  two  hands  upon  his  own  drew  him 
into  the  diminutive  hall. 

The  door  instantly  closed  again,  but  softly :  then  two  arms 
were  flung  around  his  neck,  and  his  willing  lips  received  a  sub- 
dued kiss.  "  Hush !  "  she  said  ;  "  it  is  delightful  that  you  have 
arrived,  though  we  didn't  expect  you  so  immediately.  Come 
into  the  drawing-room,  and  let  us  have  a  minute  together 
before  I  call  ma. " 

She  tripped  lightly  before  him,  and  they  were  presently 
seated  side  by  side,  on  the  sofa. 

"  What  could  have  brought  me  to  the  window  just  at  that  mo- 
ment ?  "  she  whispered  ;  "  it  must  have  been  presentiment." 

Joseph's  face  brightened  with  pleasure.  "  And  I  was  long 
on  the  way,"  he  answered.  "  What  will  you  think  of  me, 
Julia  ?  I  was  a  little  afraid." 

"  I  know  you  were,  Joseph,"  she  said.  "  It  is  only  the 
cold,  insensible  hearts  that  are  never  agitated." 

Their  eyes  met,  and  he  remarked,  for  the  first  time,  their 
peculiar  pale-brown,  almost  tawny  clearness.  The  next  in- 
stant her  long  lashes  slowly  fell  and  half  concealed  them;  she 
drew  away  slightly  from  him,  and  said :  "  I  should  like  to  be 
beautiful,  for  your  sake ;  I  never  cared  about  it  before." 


"\Vitlicmt  giving  him  time  to  reply,  she  rose  and  moved 
towards  the  door,  then  looked  back,  smiled,  and  disap- 
peared. 

Joseph,  left  alone,  also  rose  and  walked  softly  up  and 
down  the  room.  To  his  eyes  it  seemed  an  elegant,  if  rather 
chilly  apartment.  It  was  long  and  narrow  with  a  small, 
delusive  fireplace  of  white  marble  (intended  only  for  hot  air) 
in  the  middle,  a  carpet  of  many  glaring  colors  on  the  floor, 
and  a  paper  brilliant  with  lilac-bunches  on  the  walls.  There 
was  a  centre-table,  with  some  lukewarm  literature  cooling 
itself  011  the  marble  top  ;  an  ettigcre,  with  a  few  nondescript 
cups  and  flagons,  and  a  cottage  piano,  on  which  lay  several 
sheets  of  music  by  Verdi  and  Balfe.  The  furniture,  not  very 
abundant,  was  swathed  in  a  nankeen  summer  dress.  There 
were  two  pictures  on  the  walls,  portraits  of  a  gentleman  and 
lady,  and  when  once  Joseph  had  caught  the  fixed  stare  of 
their  lustreless  eyes,  he  found  it  difficult  to  turn  away.  The 
imperfect  light  which  came  through  the  bowed  window- 
shutters  revealed  a  florid,  puffy-faced  young  man,  whose 
head  was  held  up  by  a  high  black  satin  stock.  He  was 
leaning  against  a  fluted  pillar,  apparently  constructed  of 
putty,  behind  which  fell  a  superb  crimson  curtain,  lifted  up 
at  one  corner  to  disclose  a  patch  of  stormy  sky.  The  long 
locks,  tucked  in  at  the  temples,  the  carefully-delineated 
•whiskers,  and  the  huge  signet-i-ing  on  the  second  finger  of 
the  one  exposed  hand,  indicated  that  a  certain  "  position  "  in 
society  was  either  possessed  or  claimed  of  right  by  the 
painted  person.  Joseph  could  hardly  doubt  that  this  was  a 
representation  of  "  B.  Blessing,"  as  he  appeared  twenty  or 
thirty  years  before. 

He  turned  to  the  other  picture.  The  lady  was  slender, 
and  meant  to  be  graceful,  her  head  being  inclined  so  that  the 


72  .TO?::PH  AXD  nis  FRTKXP. 

curls  on  the  left  side  rolled  in  studied  disorder  upon  lier 
shoulder.  Her  face  was  thin  and  long,  wilh  well-marked  and 
not  unpleasant  features.  There  was  rather  too  positive  a 
bloom  upon  her  cheeks,  and  the  fixed  smile  on  the  narrow 
mouth  scarcely  harmonized  Avith  the  hard,  serious  stare  of 
the  eyes.  She  was  royally  attired  in  purple,  and  her  bare 
white  arm — much  more  plumply  rounded  than  her  face 
would  have  given  reason  to  suspect — hung  with  a  listless 
grace  over  the  end  of  a  sofa. 

Joseph  looked  from  one  face  to  the  other  with  a  curious 
interest,  which  the  painted  eyes  seemed  also  to  reflect,  as 
they  followed  him.  They  were  strangers,  out  of  a  different 
sphere  of  life,  yet  they  must  become,  nay,  were  already,  a 
part  of  his  own !  The  lady  scrutinized  him  closely,  in  spite 
of  her  smile ;  but  the  indifference  of  the  gentleman,  blandly 
satisfied  with  himself,  seemed  less  assuring  to  his  prospects. 

Footsteps  in  the  hall  interrupted  his  revery,  and  he  had 
barely  time  to  slip  into  his  seat  when  the  door  opened  and 
Julia  entered,  followed  by  the  original  of  one  of  the  por- 
traits. He  recognized  her,  although  the  curls  had  dis- 
appeared, the  dark  hair  was  sprinkled  with  gray,  and  deep 
lines  about  the  mouth  and  eyes  gave  them  an  expression  of 
care  and  discontent.  In  one  respect  she  differed  from  her 
daughter :  her  eyes  were  gray. 

She  bent  her  head  with  a  stately  air  as  Joseph  rose, 
walked  past  Julia,  and  extended  her  hand,  with  the  words, — 

"  Mr.  Asten,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.     Pray  be  seated." 

When  all  had  taken  seats,  she  resumed  :  "  Excuse  me  if  I 
begin  by  asking  a  question.  You  must  consider  that  I  have  only 
known  you  through  Julia,  and  her  description  could  not,  un 
der  the  circumstances,  be  very  clear.  What  is  your  age  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-three  next  birthday,"  Joseph  replied. 


"  Indeed  !  1  am  happy  to  hear  it.  You  do  not  look 
more  than  nineteen.  I  have  reason  to  dread  v <•!">/  youthful 
attachments,  and  am  therefore  reassured  to  know  that  you 
are  fullv  a  man  and  compi'tent  to  test  your  feelings.  I  trust 
that  you  have  so  tested  them.  Again  I  say,  excuse  me  if  the 
question  seems  to  imply  a  want  of  confidence.  A  mother's 
anxiety,  you  know — " 

Julia  clasped  her  hands  and  Lent  down  her  head. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  myself,"  Joseph  said,  "  and  would 
try  to  make  you  as  sure,  if  I  knew  how  to  do  it." 

"  If  you  were  one  of  us, — of  the  city,  I  mean, — I  should 
be  able  to  judge  more  promptly.  It  is  many  yeai'S  since  I 
have  been  outside  of  our  own  select  circle,  and  I  am  there- 
fore not  so  competent  as  once  to  judge  of  men  in  general. 
While  I  will  never,  without  the  most  sufficient  reason,  in- 
fluence my  daughters  in  their  choice,  it  is  my  duty  to  tell 
you  that  Julia  is  exceedingly  susceptible  on  the  side  of  her 
affections.  A  wound  there  would  be  incurable  to  her.  "VVe 
are  alike  in  that ;  I  know  her  nature  through  my  own." 

Julia  hid  her  face  upon  her  mother's  shoulder :  Joseph 
was  moved,  and  vainly  racked  his  brain  for  some  form  of  as- 
surance which  might  remove  the  maternal  anxiety. 

"  There,"  said  Mrs.  Blessing ;  "  we  will  say  no  more 
about  it  now.  Go  and  bring  your  sister  !  " 

"  There  are  some  other  points,  Mr.  Asten,"  she  continued, 
"  which  have  no  doubt  already  occurred  to  your  mind.  Mr. 
Blessing  will  consult  with  you  in  relation  to  them.  I  make 
it  a  rule  never  to  trespass  upon  his  field  of  duty.  As  you 
were  not  positively  expected  to-day,  he  went  to  the  Custom- 
House  as  usual ;  but  it  will  soon  be  time  for  him  to  return. 
Official  labors,  you  understand,  cannot  be  postponed.  If  you 
have  ever  served  in  a  government  capacity,  you  will  appre- 


i-i  JOSEI'ir    AXD    III3    FRIKXD. 

cuitc  his  j)osition.  I  have  sometimes  wished  that  we  had  not 
become  identified  with  political  life;  but,  on  the  other1  hand, 
there  are  compensations." 

Joseph,  impressed  more  by  Mrs.  Blessing's  important  man- 
ner than  the  words  she  uttered,  could  only  say,  "I  beg  that 
my  visit  may  not  interfere  in  any  way  with  Mr.  Blessing's 
duties." 

"  Unfortunately,"  she  replied,  "  they  cannot  be  postponed^ 
His  advice  is  more  required  by  the  Collector  than  his  spe- 
cial official  services.  But,  as  I  said,  he  will  confer  with  you 
in  regard  to  the  future  of  our  little  girl.  I  call  her  so,  Mr. 
Asten,  because  she  is  the  youngest,  and  I  can  hardly  yet 
realize  that  she  is  old  enough  to  leave  me.  Yes :  the  young- 
est, and  the  first  to  go.  Had  it  been  Clementina,  I  should 
have  been  better  prepared  for  the  change.  But  a  mother 
should  always  be  ready  to  sacrifice  herself,  where  the  happi- 
ness of  a  child  is  at  stake." 

Mrs.  Blessing  gently  pressed  a  small  handkerchief  to  the 
corner  of  each  eye,  then  heaved  a  sigh,  and  resumed  her 
tisual  calm  dignity  of  manner.  The  door  opened,  and  Julia 
re-entered,  followed  by  her  sister. 

"  This  is  Miss  Blessing,"  said  the  mother. 

The  young  lady  bowed  very  formally,  and  therewith 
would  have  finished  her  greeting,  but  Joseph  had  already 
risen  and  extended  his  hand.  She  thereupon  gave  him  the 
tips  of  four  limp  fingers,  which  he  attempted  to  grasp  and 
then  let  go. 

Clementina  was  nearly  a  head  taller  than  her  sister,  and 
amply  proportioned.  She  had  a  small,  petulant  mouth, 
small  gray  eyes,  a  low,  narrow  forehead,  and  light  brown 
hair.  Her  eyelids  and  cheeks  had  the  same  puffy  character 
a?  her  father's,  in  his  portrait  on  the  wall ;  yet  there  was  a 


75 

bloom  and  brilliancy  about  her  complexion  which  suggested 
beauty.  A  faint  expression  of  curiosity  passed  over  her 
face,  on  meeting  Joseph,  but  she  uttered  no  word  of  wel- 
come. ITe  looked  at  Julia,  whose  manner  was  suddenly 
subdued,  and  was  quick  enough  to  perceive  a  rivalry  between 
the  sisters.  The  stolidity  of  Clementina's  countenance  in- 
dicated that  indifference  which  is  more  offensive  than  enmity. 
He  disliked  her  from  the  first  moment. 

Julia  kept  modestly  silent,  and  the  conversation,  in  spite 
of  her  mother's  capacity  to  carry  it  on,  did  not  flourish. 
Clementina  spoke  only  in  monosyllables,  which  she  let  fall 
from  time  to  time  with  a  silver  sweetness  which  startled 
Joseph,  it  seemed  so  at  variance  with  her  face  and  manner. 
He  felt  very  much  relieved  when,  after  more  than  one 
significant  glance  had  been  exchanged  with  her  mother,  the 
two  arose  and  left  the  room.  At  the  door  Mrs.  Blessing 
said  :  "  Of  course  you  will  stay  and  take  a  family  tea  with 
us,  Mr.  Asten.  I  will  order  it  to  be  earlier  served,  as  you 
are  probably  not  accustomed  to  our  city  hours." 

Julia  looked  up  brightly  after  the  door  had  closed,  and  ex- 
claimed :  "  Now !  when  ma  says  that,  you  may  be  satisfied. 
Her  housekeeping  is  like  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
She  probably  seemed  rather  formal  to  you,  and  it  is  true  that 
a  certain  amount  of  form  has  become  natural  to  her ;  but  it 
always  gives  way  when  she  is  strongly  moved.  Pa  is  to  come 
yet,  but  I  am  sure  you  will  get  on  very  well  with  him ; 
men  always  grow  acquainted  in  a  little  while.  I'm  afraid 
that  Clementina  did  not  impress  you  very — very  genially ; 
she  is,  I  may  confess  it  to  you,  a  little  peculiar." 

"  She  is  very  quiet,"  said  Joseph,  "  and  very  unlike  you." 

"  Every  one  notices  that.  And  we  seem  to  be  unlike  in 
character,  as  much  so  as  if  there  were  no  relationship  be- 


<O  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FKIEND. 

tween  us.  But  I  must  say  for  Clementina,  that  she  is  above 
personal  likings  and  dislikings  ;  she  looks  at  people  abstractly. 
You  are  only  a  future  brother-in-law  to  her,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  can  tell  whether  your  hair  is  black  or  the  beautiful 
golden  brown  that  it  is." 

Joseph  smiled,  not  ill-pleased  with  Jxilia's  delicate  flattery. 
"  I  am  all  the  more  delighted,"  he  said, "  that  you  are  different. 
1  should  not  like  you,  Julia,  to  consider  me  an  abstraction." 

"You  are  very  real,  Joseph,  and  very  individual,"  she 
answered,  with  one  of  her  loveliest  smiles. 

N"ot  ten  minutes  afterwards,  Julia,  whose  eyes  and  ears 
were  keenly  on  the  alert,  notwithstanding  her  gay,  unre- 
strained talk,  heard  the  click  of  a  latch-key.  She  sprang 
up,  laid  her  forefinger  on  her  lips,  gave  Joseph  a  swift, 
significant  glance,  and  darted  into  the  hall.  A  sound  of 
whispering  followed,  and  there  was  no  mistaking  the  deep, 
hoarse  murmur  of  one  of  the  voices. 

Mr.  Blessing,  without  the  fluted  pillar  and  the  crimson 
curtain,  was  less  formidable  than  Joseph  had  anticipated. 
The  years  had  added  to  his  body  and  taken  away  from,  his 
hair  ;  yet  his  face,  since  high  stocks  were  no  longer  in  fashion, 
had  lost  its  rigid  lift,  and  expressed  the  chronic  cordiality  of 
a  popular  politician.  There  was  a  redness  about  the  rims  of 
his  eyes,  and  a  fulness  of  the  under  lid,  which  also  denoted 
political  habits.  However,  despite  wrinkles,  redness,  and  a 
general  roughening  and  coarsening  of  the  features,  the  re- 
semblance to  the  portrait  was  still  strong  ;  and  Joseph,  feel- 
ing as  if  the  presentation  had  already  been  made,  offered  his 
hand  as  soon  as  Mr.  Blessing  entered  the  room. 

"  Very  happy  to  see  you,  Mr.  Asten,"  said  the  latter. 
"  An  unexpected  pleasure,  sir." 

He  removed  the  glove  from  his  left  hand,  pulled  down  his 


JOSEPH     .VXD    Ills    FKIKXI).  77 

coat  and  vest,  felt  tlie  tie  of  his  cravat,  twitched  at  his  pan- 
taloons, ran  his  lingers  through  liis  straggling  gray  locks,  and 
then  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  exclaiming:  "After  busi- 
ness, pleasure,  sir  !  My  duties  are  over  for  the  day.  Mrs. 
Blessing  probably  infonned  you  of  n;y  official  capacity;  but 
you  can  have  no  conception  of  the  vigilance  required  to 
prevent  evasion  of  the  revenue  laws.  AVe  are  the  country's 
watch-dogs,  sir." 

"  I  can  understand,"  Joseph  said,  "  that  an  official  position 
carries  with  it  much  responsibility." 

"  Quite  right,  sir,  and  without  adequate  remuneration. 
Figuratively  speaking,  we  handle  millions,  and  we  are  paid 
by  dimes.  Were  it  not  for  the  consciousness  of  serving 
and  saving  for  the  nation — but  I  will  not  pursue  the  subject. 
When  we  have  become  better  acquainted,  you  can  judge  for 
yourself  whether  preferment  always  follows  capacity.  Our 
present  business  is  to  establish  a  mutual  understanding, — • 
as  we  say  in  politics,  to  prepare  a  platform, — and  I  think 
you  will  agree  with  me  that  the  circumstances  of  the  case 
require  frank  dealing,  as  between  man  and  man." 

"  Certainly  !  "  Joseph  answered  ;  "  I  only  ask  that,  al- 
though I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  you  will  accept  my  word  un- 
til you  have  the  means  of  verifying  it." 

"  I  may  safely  do  that  with  you,  sir.  My  associations — 
duties,  I  may  say — compel  me  to  know  many  persons  with 
whom  it  would  not  be  safe.  We  will  forget  the  disparity 
of  age  and  experience  between  us.  T  can  hardly  ask  you  to 
imagine  yourself  placed  in  my  situation,  but  perhaps  we  can 
make  the  case  quite  as  clear  if  I  state  to  you,  without  re- 
serve, what  I  should  be  ready  to  do,  if  our  present  positions 
•were  reversed  :  Julia,  will  you  look  after  the  tea  ?  " 

"  Yes,  pa,"  said  she,  and  slipped  out  of  the  drawing-room. 


78  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FKIKXP. 

"If  I  wore  a  young  man  from  the  country,  and  had  we.,. 
the  affections  of  a  young  lady  of — well,  I  may  say  it  to  you 
• — of  ail  old  family,  whose  parents  were  ignorant  of  my  de- 
scent, means,  and  future  prospects  in  life,  I  should  consider 
it  my  first  duty  to  enlighten  those  parents  upon  all  these 
points.  I  should  reflect  that  the  lady  must  be  removed  from 
their  sphere  to  mine  ;  that,  while  the  attachment  was,  in 
itself,  vitally  important  to  her  and  to  me,  those  parents 
would  naturally  desire  to  compare  the  two  spheres,  and  as- 
sure themselves  that  their  daughter  would  lose  no  material 
advantages  by  the  transfer.  You  catch  my  meaning  ?  " 

"  I  carne  here,"  said  Joseph,  "  with  the  single  intention  of 
satisfying  you — at  least,  I  came  hoping  that  I  shall  be  able 
to  do  so — in  regard  to  myself.  It  will  be  easy  for  you  to 
test  my  statements." 

"  Very  well.  We  will  begin,  then,  witli  the  subject  of 
Family.  Understand  me,  I  mention  this  solely  because,  in 
our  old  communities,  Family  is  the  stamp  of  Character.  An 
established  name  represents  personal  qualities,  virtues.  It 
is  indifferent  to  me  whether  my  original  ancestor  was  a  De 
Belsain  (though  beauty  and  health  have  always  been  family 
characteristics)  ;  but  it  is  important  that  he  transmitted  cer- 
tain traits  which. — which  others,  perhaps,  can  better  describe. 
The  name  of  Asteii  is  not  usual ;  it  has,  in  fact,  rather  a  distin- 
guished sound ;  but  I  am  not  acquainted  with,  its  derivation." 

Joseph,  restrained  a  temptation  to  smile,  and  replied : 
"  My  great-grandfather  came  from  England  more  than  a 
hundred  years  ago  :  that  is  all  I  positively  know.  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  the  family  was  originally  Danish." 

"  You  must  look  into  the  matter,  sir  :  a  good  pedigree  is 
a  bond  for  good  behavior.  The  Danes,  I  have  been  told, 
were  of  the  same  blood  as  the  Normans.  But  we  will  let 


79 

that  puss.  Julia  informs  me  you  are  the  owner  of  a  hand- 
some farm,  yet  .1  am  so  ignorant  of  values  in  the  country, — 
niid  mv  official  duties  oblige  me  to  measure  property  bv  such 
a  different  standard, — that,  reallv,  unless  YOU  could  make 
the  farm  evident  to  me  in  figures,  I — 

He  paused,  but  Joseph  was  quite  ready  with  the  desired 
intelligence.  "  I  have  two  hundred  acres,"  he  said,  "  and  a 
moderate  valuation  of  the  place  would  be  a  hundred  and 
thirty  dollars  an  acre.  There  is  a  mortgage  of  live  thousand 
dollars  on  the  place,  the  term  of  which  has  not  yet  expired; 
but  I  have  nearly  an  equal  amount  invested,  so  that  the  farm 
fairly  represents  what  I  own." 

"  H'm,"  mused  Mr.  Blessing,  thrusting  his  tlmmbs  into 
the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat,  "  that  is  not  a  great  deal  here 
in  the  city,  but  I  dare  say  it  is  a  handsome  competence  in 
the  country.  It  doubtless  represents  a  certain  annual  in- 
come !  " 

"  It  is  a  very  comfortable  home,  in  the  first  place,"  said 
Joseph ;  "  the  farm  ought  to  yield,  after  supplying  nearly  all 
the  wants  of  a  family,  an  annual  return  of  a  thousand  to  fif- 
teen hundred  dollars,  according  to  the  season." 

"  Twenty-six  thousand  dollars  ! — and  five  per  cent  !  "  Mr. 
Blessing  exclaimed.  "  If  you  had  the  farm  in  money,  and 
knew  how  to  operate  with  it,  you  might  pocket  ten — fifteen 
— twenty  per  cent.  Many  a  man,  with  less  than  that  to  set 
him  afloat,  has  become  a  millionnaire  in  five  years'  time. 
But  it  takes  pluck  and  experience,  sir  !  " 

"  More  of  both  than  I  can  lay  claim  to,"  Joseph  remarked ; 
"  but  what  there  is  of  my  income  is  certain.  If  Julia  were 
not  so  fond  of  the  country,  and  already  so  familiar  with  our 
ways,  I  might  hesitate  to  offer  her  such  a  plain,  quiet  home, 
but—" 


SO  JOSEPH    A^D    II  IS 


"O,  I  know!"  Mr.  Blessing  interrupted.  "  W«  have 
heard  of  nothing  but  cows  and  spring-houses  and  willow- 
trees  since  she  came  back.  I  hope,  for  your  sake,  it  may  last  ; 
for  I  see  that  you  arc  determined  to  suit  each  other.  I  have 
no  inclination  to  act  the  obdurate  parent.  You  have  met 
me  like  a  man,  sir  :  here's  my  hand  ;  I  feel  sure  that,  as  my 
son-in-law,  you  will  keep  up  the  reputation  of  the  family  !  " 


JOSKl'H    AM)    HIS    1'KIKXD.  81 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A    COXSULTATIOX. 

THE  family  tea  was  served  in  a  small  dining-room  hi  the 
rear.  Mr.  Blessing,  who  had  become  more  and  more  cordial 
with  Joseph  after  formally  accepting  him,  led  the  way  thither, 
and  managed  to  convey  a  rapid  signal  to  his  wife  before  the 
family  took  their  seats  at  the  table.  Joseph  was  the  only 
one  who  did  not  perceive  the  silent  communication  of  in- 
telligence ;  but  its  consequences  were  such  as  to  make  him 
speedily  feel  at  ease  in  the  Blessing  mansion.  Even  Clemen- 
tina relented  sufficiently  to  say,  in  her  most  silvery  tones, 
"  May  I  offer  you  the  butter,  Mr.  Asten  ?  " 

The  table,  it  is  true,  was  very  unlike  the  substantial  sup- 
pers of  the  country.  There  was  a  variety  of  diminutive 
dishes,  containing  slices  so  delicate  that  they  mocked  rather 
than  excited  the  appetite;  yet  Julia  (of  course  it  was  she  !) 
had  managed  to  give  the  repast  an  air  of  elegance  which  was 
at  least  agreeable  to  a  kindred  sense.  Joseph  took  the  little 
cup,  the  thin  tea,  the  five  drops  of  milk,  and  the  fragment 
of  sugar,  without  asking  himself  whether  the  beverage  were 
palatable  :  he  divided  a  leaf-like  piece  of  flesh  and  consumed 
several  wafers  of  bread,  blissfully  unconscious  whether  his 
stomach  were  satisfied.  He  felt  that  he  had  been  received 
into  The  Family.  Mr.  Blessing  was  magnificently  bland, 
Mrs.  Blessing  was  maternally  interested,  Clementina  recog- 
nized his  existence,  and  Julia, — he  needed  but  one  look  at 
her  sparkling  eyes,  her  softly  flushed  cheeks,  her  bewitching 

excitement  of  manner,  to  guess  the  relief  of  her  heart.     He 
4* 


82  JOSEPH    AND    lite    1-TJKXD. 

forgot  the  vague  distress  which  Lad  preceded  Lis  coming,  and 
the  embarrassment  of  his  first  reception,  in  the  knowledge 
that  Julia  was  so  happy,  and  through  the  acquiescence  of 
her  parents,  in  his  love. 

It  was  settled  that  he  should  pass  the  night  there.  Mrs. 
Blessing  would  take  no  denial ;  he  must  now  consider  their 
house  as  his  home.  She  would  also  call  him  "  Joseph,"  but 
not  now, — not  until  she  was  entitled  to  name  him  "  son." 
It  had  come  suddenly  upon  her,  but  it  Avas  her  duty  to  be 
glad,  and  in  a  little  while  she  would  become  accustomed  to 
the  change. 

All  this  was  so  simply  and  cordially  said,  that  Joseph  cpaite 
warmed  to  the  stately  woman,  and  unconsciously  decided  to 
accept  his  fortune,  whatever  features  it  might  wear.  Until 
the  one  important  event,  at  least ;  after  that  it  would  be  in 
his  own  hands — and  Julia's. 

After  tea,  two  or  three  hours  passed  away  rather  slowly. 
Mr.  Blessing  sat  in  the  pit  of  a  back  yard  and  smoked  until 
dusk  ;  then  the  family  collected  in  the  "  drawing-room,"  and 
there  was  a  little  music,  and  a  variety  of  gossip,  with  occa- 
sional pauses  of  silence,  until  Mi's.  Blessing  said  :  "  Perhaps 
you  had  better  show  Mr.  Asten  to  his  room,  Mr.  Blessing. 
We  may  have  already  passed  over  his  accustomed  hour  for 
retiring.  If  so,  I  know  he  will  excuse  us ;  we  shall  soon 
become  familiar  with  each  other's  habits." 

When  Mr.  Blessing  returned,  he  first  opened  the  rear 
window,  drew  an  arm-chair  near  it,  took  off  his  coat,  seated 
himself,  and  lit  another  cigar.  His  wife  closed  the  front 
shutters,  slipped  the  night-bolts  of  the  door,  and  then  seated 
herself  beside  him.  Julia  whirled  around  on  her  music-stool 
to  face  the  coming  consultation,  and  Clementina  gracefully 
posed  herself  in  the  nearest  corner  of  the  sofa. 


S3 


"  How  do  you  like  lain,  Eliza  V  "'  M  ix.  Blessing  asked,  after 
several  silent,  lux.uiious  v.luli's. 

"lie  is  handsome,  and  seems  amiable,  but  younger  tlian  I 
expected.  Are  you  sure  of  his-  hi-,  feelings,  Julia?" 

'' O  nui  !  *'  Julia  exclaimed;  "what  a  question!  I  can 
only  judge  them  by  my  own." 

Clementina  curled  her  lip  in  a  singular  fashion,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  It  seems  like  losing  Julia  entirely,"  Mrs.  Blessing  re- 
sumed. "  I  don't  know  how  she  will  be  able  to  retain  her 
place  in  our  circle,  unless  they  spend  a  part  of  the  winter  in 
the  city,  and  whether  he  has  means  enough — " 

She  paused,  and  looked  inquisitively  at  her  husband. 

"  You  always  look  at  the  establishment,"  said  he,  "  and 
never  consider  the  chances.  Marriage  is  a  deal,  a  throw,  a 
sort  of  kite-flying,  in  fact  (except  in  our  case,  my  clear),  and, 
after  all  I've  learned  of  our  future  son-in-law,  I  must  say 
that  Julia  hasn't  a  bad  hand." 

"  I  knew  you'd  like  him,  pa  !  "  cried  the  delighted  Julia. 

Mr.  Blessing  looked  at  her  steadily  a  moment,  and  then 
winked ;  but  she  took  no  notice  of  it. 

"  There  is  another  thing,"  said  his  wife.  "  If  the  wedding 
conies  off  this  fall,  we  have  but  two  months  to  prepare ;  and 
how  will  you  manage  about  the — the  money  ?  "We  can  save 
afterwards,  to  be  sure,  but  there  will  be  an  immediate  and 
fearful  expense.  I've  thought,  perhaps,  that  a  simple  and 
private  ceremony, — married  in  travelling-dress,  you.  know, 
just  before  the  train  leaves,  and  no  cards, — it  is  sometimes 
done  in  the  highest  circles." 

"  It  won't  do !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Blessing,  waving  his  right 
hand.  "  Julia's  husband  must  have  an  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing our  standing  in  society.  I  will  invite  the  Collector,  and 


8-4  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FIIIKNI). 

the  Surveyor,  and  the  Appraiser.  The  money  must  be  raised. 
I  should  be  willing  to  pawn — 

He  looked  around  the  room,  inspecting  the  well-worn 
carpet,  the  nankeen-covered  chairs,  the  old  piano,  and  finally 
the  two  pictures. 

"  — Your  portrait,  my  dear  ;  but,  unless  it  were  a  Stuart, 
I  couldn't  get  ten  dollars  on  it.  We  must  take  your  set  of 
diamonds,  and  Julia's  rubies,  and  Clementina's  pearls." 

He  leaned  back,  and  laughed  with  great  glee.  The  ladies 
became  rigid  and  grave. 

"  It  is  wicked,  Benjamin,"  Mrs.  Blessing  severely  remark- 
ed, "  to  jest  over  our  troubles  at  such  a  time  as  this.  I  see 
nothing  else  to  do,  but  to  inform  Mr.  Asten,  frankly,  of  our 
condition.  He  is  yet  too  young,  I  think,  to  be  repelled  by 
poverty." 

"  Ma,  it  would  break  my  heart,"  said  Julia.  "  I  could 
not  bear  to  be  humiliated  in  his  eyes." 

"  Decidedly  the  best  thing  to  do,"  warbled  Clementina, 
speaking  for  the  first  time. 

"  That's  the  way  with  women, — flying  from  one  extreme 
to  the  other.  If  you  can't  have  white,  you  turn  around  and 
say  there's  no  other  color  than  black.  When  all  devices  are 
exhausted,  a  man  of  pluck  and  character  goes  to  work  and 
constructs  a  new  one.  Upon  my  soul,  I  don't  know  where 
the  money  is  to  come  from  ;  but  give  me  ten  days,  and  Julia 
shall  have  her  white  satin.  Now,  girls,  you  had  better  go 
to  bed." 

Mr.  Blessing  smoked  silently  until  the  sound  of  his 
daughters'  footsteps  had  ceased  on  the  stairs ;  then,  bringing 
down  his  hand  emphatically  upon  his  thigh,  he  exclaimed, 
"  By  Jove,  Eliza,  if  I  were  as  sharp  as  that  girl,  I'd  have 
had  the  Collectorship  before  this !  " 


85 

"  What  do  you  mean?  She  seems  to  be  strongly  attached 
to  him." 

'•  < ),  no  doubt  !  But  she  has  a  wonderful  talent  for  read- 
ing character.  The  young  fellow  is  pretty  green  wood  still; 
what  he'll  season  into  depends  on  her.  Honest  as  the  dav, 
- — there's  nothing  like  a  country  life  for  that.  But  it's  a 
pity  that  such  a  fund  for  operations  should  lie  idle;  he  has 
a  nest-egg  that  might  hutch  out  millions  !  " 

"  I  hope,  Benjamin,  that  after  all  your  unfortunate  experi- 
ence— 

"Pray  don't  lament  in  advance,  and  especially  now,  when 
a  bit  of  luck  comes  to  us.  Julia  has  done  well,  and  I'll 
trust  her  to  improve  her  opportunities.  Besides,  this  will 
help  Clementina's  chances ;  where  there  is  one  marriage  in  a 
family,  there  is  generally  another.  Poor  girl !  she  has 
waited  a  long  while.  At  thirty-three,  the  market  gets  v-e-r-y 
flat." 

"And  yet  Julia  is  thirty,"  said  Mrs.  Blessing;  "and 
Clementina's  complexion  and  manners  have  been  considered 
superior." 

"  There's  just  her  mistake.  A  better  copy  of  Mrs.  Hali- 
but's airs  and  attitudes  was  never  produced,  and  it  was  all 
very  well  so  long  as  Mrs.  Halibut  gave  the  tone  to  society ; 
but  since  she  went  to  Europe,  and  Mrs.  Bass  has  somehow 
crept  into  her  place,  Clementina  is  qtu'te — I  may  say — obso- 
lete. I  don't  object  to  her  complexion,  because  that  is  a 
standing  fashion,  but  she  is  expected  to  be  chatty,  and  witty, 
and  instead  of  that  she  stands  about  like  a  Venus  of  Milo. 
She  looks  like  me,  and  she  can't  lack  intelligence  and  tact. 
Why  couldn't  she  unbend  a  little  more  to  Asten,  whether 
she  likes  him  or  not  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  never  seemed  to  manage  Clementina,"  his 


8C>  JOSKl'II    AND    HIS    FKIEXD. 

wife  replied  ;  "  if  she  were  to  dispute  my  opinion  sometimes, 
I  might,  perhaps,  gain  a  little  influence  over  her  :  but  she 
won't  enter  into  a  discussion." 

"  Mrs.  Halibut's  way.  It  was  new,  then,  and,  with  her 
husband's  money  to  back  it,  her  '  grace  '  and  '  composure  '  and 
'  serenity '  carried  all  before  her.  Give  me  fifty  thousand  a 
year,  and  I'll  put  Clementina  in  the  same  place !  But, 
come, — to  the  main  question.  1  suppose  we  shall  need  five 
hundred  dollars  !  " 

"  Three  hundred,  I  think,  will  be  ample,"  said  Mrs. 
Blessing. 

"Three  or  five,  it's  as  hard  to  raise  one  sum  as  the  other. 
I'll  try  for  five,  raid  if  I  have  luck  with  the  two  hundred 
over — small,  careful  operations,  you  know,  which  always 
succeed — I  may  have  the  whole  amount  on  hand,  long  before 
it's  due." 

Mrs.  Blessing  smiled  in  a  melancholy,  hopeless  way,  and 
the  consultation  came  to  an  end. 

When  Joseph  was  left  alone  in  his  chamber,  he  felt  no 
inclination  to  sleep.  He  sat  at  the  open  window,  and  looked 
down  into  the  dim,  melancholy  street,  the  solitude  of  which 
was  broken  about  once  every  quarter  of  an  hour  by  a  forlorn 
pedestrian,  who  approached  through  gloom  and  lamplight,  was 
foreshortened  to  his  hat,  and  then  lengthened  away  on  the 
other  side.  The  new  acquaintances  he  had  just  made 
remained  all  the  more  vividly  in  his  thoughts  from  their 
nearness  ;  he  was  still  within  their  atmosphere.  They  were 
unlike  any  persons  he  knew,  and  therefore  he  felt  that  he 
might  do  them  injustice  by  a  hasty  estimate  of  their  charac- 
ter. Clementina,  however,  was  excluded  from  this  charitable 
resolution.  Concentrating  his  dislike  on  her,  he  found  that 
her  parents  had  received  him  with  as  much  consideration  as 


a  total  stranger  could  expect.  More-over,  whatever  they 
might  lie,  Julia  was  the  same  here,  in  her  own  home,  as 
when  slie  was  a  guest  in  the  country.  As  playful,  as  win- 
ning,  and  as  natural  ;  and  he  began  to  suspect  that  her 
present  life  was  not  congenial  to  such  a  nature.  If  so,  her 
happiness  was  all  the  more  assured  by  their  union. 

This  thought  led  him  into  a  pictured  labyrinth  of  antici- 
pation, in  which  his  mind  wandered  with  delight.  He  was 
so  absorbed  in  planning  the  new  household,  that  he  did  not 
hear  the  sisters  entering  the  rear  room  011  the  same  floor, 
which  was  only  separated  by  a  thin  partition  from  his 
own. 

"  White  satin  !  "  he  suddenly  heard  Clementina  say  :  "  of 
course  I  shall  have  the  same.  It  will  become  me  better 
than  you." 

"  I  should  think  you  might  be  satisfied  with  a  light  silk," 
Julia  said ;  "  the  expenses  will  be  very  heavy." 

"  We'll  see,"  Clementina  answered  shortly,  pacing  up  and 
down  the  room. 

After  a  long  pause,  he  heard  Julia's  voice  again.  "  Never 
mind,"  she  said,  "  I  shall  soon  be  out  of  your  way." 

"  I  wonder  how  much  he  knows  about  you  ! "  Clemen- 
tina exclaimed.  "  Your  arts  were  new  there,  and  you 
played  an  easy  game."  Here  she  lowered  her  voice,  and 
Joseph  only  distingtiished  a  detached  word  now  and  then. 
He  rose,  indignant  at  this  unsisterly  assault,  and  wishing  to 
hear  no  more ;  but  it  seemed  that  the  movement  was  not 
noticed,  for  Julia  replied,  in  smothered,  excited  tones,  with 
some  remark  about  "  complexion." 

"  Well,  there  is  one  thing,"  Clementina  continued, — "  one 
thing  you  will  keep  very  secret,  and  that  is  your  birthday. 
Are  yo\i  going  to  tell  him  that  vou  are — " 


88  JO^KPH    AMD    II  fS    FIIIKXD. 

Joseph  had  sei/ed  tlio  back  of  a  chair.,  and  with  a  sudden 
impulse  tilted  it  and  let  it  fall  on  the,  floor.  Then  he 
walked  to  the  window,  closed  it,  and  prepared  to  go  to  rest, 
— all  with  more  noi.se  than  was  habitual  with  him.  There 
were  whispers  and  hushed  movements  in  the  next  room,  but 
not  another  audible  word  was  spoken.  Before  sleeping  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  more  than  Julia's  lover: 
he  was  her  deliverer.  The  idea  was  not  unwelcome :  it  gave 
a  new  value  and  significance  to  his  life. 

However  curious  Julia  might  have  been  to  discover  how 
much  he  had  overheard,  she  made  no  effort  to  ascertain  the 
fact.  She  met  him  next  morning  with  a  sweet  unconscious- 
ness of  what  she  had  endured,  which  convinced  him  that 
such  painful  scenes  must  have  been  frequent,  or  she  could 
not  have  forgotten  so  easily.  His  greeting  to  Clementina 
was  brief  and  cold,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  notice  it  in  the 
least. 

It  was  decided,  before  he  left,  that  the  wedding  should 
take  place  in  October. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FiJIE^D.  89 


CIIAriER  IX. 

JOSEPH    AND    II1S    FKIEND. 

THE  train  moved  slowly  along  through  the  straggling  and 
shabby  suburbs,  increasing  its  speed  as  the  city  melted  grad- 
ually into  the  country  ;  and  Joseph,  after  a  vain  attempt 
to  fix  his  mind  upon  one  of  the  volumes  he  had  procured  for 
his  slender  library  at  home,  leaned  back  in  his  seat  and  took 
note  of  his  fellow-travellers.  Since  he  began  to  approach 
the  usual  destiny  of  men,  they  had  a  new  interest  for  him. 
Hitherto  he  had  looked  upon  strange  faces  very  much  as  on 
a  strange  language,  without  a  thought  of  interpreting  them  • 
but  now  their  hieroglyphics  seemed  to  suggest  a  meaning 
The  figures  around  him  were  so  many  sitting,  silent  histories, 
so  many  locked-up  records  of  struggle,  loss,  gain,  and  all  thg 
other  forces  which  give  shape  and  color  to  human  life.  Most 
of  them  were  strangers  to  each  other,  and  as  reticent  (in 
their  railway  conventionality)  as  himself ;  yet,  he  reflected, 
the  whole  range  of  passion,  pleasure,  and  suffering  was  prob- 
ably illustrated  in  that  collection  of  existences.  His  own 
troublesome  individuality  grew  fainter,  so  much  of  it  seemed 
to  be  merged  in  the  common  experience  of  men. 

There  was  the  portly  gentleman  of  fifty,  still  ruddy  and 
full  of  unwasted  force.  The  keenness  and  coolness  of  his 
eyes,  the  few  firmly  marked  lines  on  his  face,  and  the  color 
and  hardness  of  his  lips,  proclaimed  to  everybody :  "  I  am 
bold,  shrewd,  successful  in  business,  scrupulous  in  the  per- 
formance of  my  religious  duties  (on  the  Sabbath),  voting 


00  .TOFK1MI    AND    JUS    FKIIJXT). 

•with  my  party,  and  not  likely  to  Le  fooled  by  any  kind  of 
sentimental  nonsense."  The  thin,  not  very  well-dressed  man 
beside  him,  "with  the  irregular  features  and  uncertain  ex- 
pression, announced  as  clearly,  to  any  who  could  read  :  "  I 
am  weak,  like  others,  but  I  never  consciously  did  any  harm. 

1  just  manage  to  get  along  in  the  world,  but  if  I  only  had  a 
chance,  I  might  make  something  better  of  myself."      The 
fresh,  healthy  fellow,   in  whose  lap    a    child  was  sleeping, 
while  his  wife  nursed  a  younger  one, — the  man  with  ample 
mouth,  large  nostrils,  and  the  hands  of  a  mechanic, —  also 
told   his  story  :  "  On  the  whole,  I  find  life  a  comfortable 
thing.     I  don't  know  much  about  it,  but  I  take  it  as  it  comes, 
and  never  worry  over  what  I  can't  understand." 

The  faces  of  the  younger  men,  however,  were  not  so  easy 
to  decipher.  On  them  life  was  only  beginning  its  plastic 
task,  and  it  required  an  older  eye  to  detect  the  delicate 
touches  of  awakening  passions  and  hopes.  But  Joseph  con- 
soled himself  with  the  thought  that  his  own  secret  w*as  as 
little  to  be  discovered  as  any  they  might  have.  If  they  were 
still  ignorant  of  the  sweet  experience  of  love,  he  was  already 
their  superior  ;  if  they  were  sharers  in  it,  though  strangers, 
they  were  near  to  him.  Had  he  not  left  the  foot,  of  the 
class,  after  all  ? 

All  at  once  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a  new  face,  three  or 
four  seats  from  his  own.  The  stranger  had  shifted  his  po- 
sition, so  that  he  was  no  longer  seen  in  profile.  He  was 
apparently  a  few  years  older  than  Joseph,  but  still  bright 
with  all  the  charm  of  early  manhood.  His  fair  complexion 
was  bronzed  from  exposure,  and  his  hands,  graceful  without 
being  effeminate,  were  not  those  of  the  idle  gentleman.  His 
hair,  golden  in  tint,  thrust  its  short  locks  as  it  pleased  about 
a  smooth,  frank  forehead ;  the  eyes  were  dark  gray,  and  the 


91 

mourli.  partly  hidden  by  a  mustache,  at  once  firm  and  full. 
I IV  was  moderately  handsome,  yet  it  was  not  of  that  which 
Joseph  thought  ;  he  felt  that  there  was  more  of  developed 
character  and  a  richer  past  history  expressed  in  those  fea- 
tures than  in  any  other  face  there.  lie  felt  sure — and 
smiled  at  himself,  notwithstanding,  for  the  impression — 
that  at  least  some  of  his  own  doubts  and  difficulties  had 
found  their  solution  in  the  stranger's  nature.  The  more  he 
studied  the  face,  the  more  he  was  conscious  of  its  attraction, 
and  his  instinct  of  reliance,  though  utterly  without  grounds, 
justified  itself  to  his  mind  in  some  mysterious  way. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  unknown  felt  his  gaze,  and, 
turning  slowly  in  his  seat,  answered  it.  Joseph  dropped  his 
eyes  in  some  confusion,  but  not  until  he  had  caught  the  full, 
warm,  intense  expression  of  those  that  met  them.  He  fan- 
cied that  lie  read  in  them,  in  that  momentary  flash,  what  he 
had  never  before  found  in  the  eyes  of  strangers, — a  simple, 
human  interest,  above  curiosity  and  above  mistrust.  The 
usual  reply  to  such  a  gaze  is  an  unconscious  defiance  :  the 
unknown  nature  is  on  its  guard  :  but  the  look  which  seems 
to  answer,  "  We  are  men,  let  us  know  each  other  ! "  is,  alas  ! 
too  rare  in  this  world. 

While  Joseph  was  fighting  the  irresistible  temptation  to 
look  again,  there  was  a  sudden  thud  of  the  car- wheels.  Many 
of  the  passengers  started  from  their  seats,  only  to  be  thrown 
into  them  again  by  a  quick  succession  of  violent  jolts.  Jo- 
seph saw  the  stranger  springing  towards  the  bell-rope ;  then 
he  and  all  others  seemed  to  be  whirling  over  each  other ; 
there  was  a  crash,  a  horrible  grinding  and  splintering  sound, 
and  the  end  of  all  was  a  shock,  in  which  his  consciousness 
left  him  before  he  could  guess  its  violence. 

After  a  while,  out  of  some  blank,  haunted  by  a  single 


03  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    F.KIEND. 

lost,  wandering  sense  of  existence,  he  began  to  awaken 
slowly  to  life.  Flames  were  still  dancing  in  his  eyeballs, 
and  waters  and  whirlwinds  roaring  in  his  ears;  but  it  was 
only  a  passive  sensation,  without  the  will  to  know  more. 
Then  lie  felt  himself  partly  lifted  and  his  head  supported, 
and  presently  a  soft  warmth  fell  upon  the  region  of  his 
heart.  There  were  noises  all  about  him,  but  he  did  not 
listen  to  them ;  his  effort  to  regain  his  consciousness  fixed 
itself  on  that  point  alone,  and  grew  stronger  as  the  warmth 
calmed  the  confusion  of  his  nerves. 

"  Dip  this  in  water  ! "  said  a  voice,  and  the  hand  (as  he 
now  knew  it  to  be)  was  removed  from  his  heart. 

Something  cold  came  over  his  forehead,  and  at  the  same 
time  warm  drops  fell  upon  his  cheek. 

"  Look  out  for  yourself :  your  head  is  cut ! "  exclaimed, 
another  voice. 

"  Only  a  scratch.  Take  the  handkerchief  out  of  my  pocket 
and  tie  it  up ;  but  first  ask  yon  gentleman  for  his  flask  !  " 

Joseph  opened  his  eyes,  knew  the  face  that  bent  over  his, 
and  then  closed  them  again.  Gentle  and  strong  hands  raised 
him,  a  flask  was  set  to  his  lips,  and  he  drank  mechanically, 
but  a  full  sense  of  life  followed  the  draught.  He  looked 
wistfully  in  the  stranger's  face. 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  said  the  latter ;  "  I  must  feel  your 
bones  before  you  try  to  move.  Arms  and  legs  all  right, — 
impossible  to  tell  about  the  ribs.  There  !  now  put  your 
arm  around  my  neck,  and  lean  on  me  as  much  as  you  like, 
•while  I  lift  you." 

Joseph  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  he  was  still  weak  and 
giddy,  and  after  a  few  steps,  they  both  sat  down  together 
upon  a  bank.  The  splintered  car  lay  near  them  upside 
down ;  the  passengers  had  been  extricated  from  it,  and  were 


jcMCm    A.ND    III*    FKTKXD.  93 

now  busy  in  aiding  the  few  who  were  injured.  The  train 
had  stopped  and  was  waiting  on  the  track  above.  Some 
were  very  pale  and  grave,  feeling  that  Death  had  touched 
without  taking  them;  but  the  greater  part  were  concerned 
onlv  about  the  delay  to  the  train. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  "  asked  Joseph  :  u  where  was  I  ? 
how  did  you  find  me  ?  " 

'•  The  usual  story, — a  broken  rail,"  said  the  stranger.  "  I 
had  just  caught  the  rope  when  the  car  went  over,  and  was 
swung  off  my  feet  so  luckily  that  I  somehow  escaped  the 
hardest  shock.  I  don't  think  I  lost  my  senses  for  a  moment. 
When,  we  came  to  the  bottom  you  were  lying  just  before  me  ; 
I  thought  you  dead  until  I  felt  your  heart.  It  is  a  severe 
shock,  but  I  hope  nothing  more." 

"  But  you, — are  you  not  badly  hurt  ?" 

The  stranger  pushed  up  the  handkerchief  which,  was  tied 
around  his  head,  felt  his  temple,  and  said  :  "  It  must  have 
been  one  of  the  splinters;  I  know  nothing  about  it.  But 
there  is  no  harm  in  a  little  blood-letting  except  " — he  added, 
smiling — "  except  the  spots  on  your  face." 

By  this  time  the  other  injured  passengers  had  been  con- 
veyed to  the  train ;  the  whistle  sounded  a  warning  of  de- 
parture. 

"  I  think  we  can  get  up  the  embankment  now,"  said  the 
stranger.  "  You  must  let  me  take  care  of  you  still :  I  am 
travelling  alone." 

"When  they  were  seated  side  by  side,  and  Joseph  leaned 
his  head  back  on  the  supporting  arm,  while  the  train  moved 
away  with  them,  he  felt  that  a  new  power,  a  new  support, 
had  come  to  his  life.  The  face  upon  which  he  looked  was 
no  longer  strange ;  the  hand  which  had  rested  on  his  heart 
was  warm  with  kindred  blood.  Involuntarily  he  extended 


01  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRTEXT). 

liis  own;  it  was  taken  and  held,  and  the  dark-gray,  courage 
ous  eyes  turned  to  him  with  a  silent  assurance  which  he  felt 
needed  no  words. 

"  It  is  a  rough  introduction,"  he  then  said  :  "  my  name  is 
Philip  Held.  I  was  on  my  way  to  Oakland  Station ;  but  if 
yon  are  going  farther — 

"  Why,  that  is  my  station  also  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed,  giv- 
ing his  name  in  return. 

"  Then  we  should  have  probably  met,  sooner  or  later,  in  any 
case.  I  am  bound  for  "the  forge  and  furnace  at  Coventry, 
which  is  for  sale.  If  the  company  who  employ  me  decide  to 
buy  it, — according  to  the  report  I  shall  make, — the  works 
will  be  placed  in  my  charge." 

"  It  is  but  six  miles  from  my  farm,"  said  Joseph,  "  and 
the  road  up  the  valley  is  the  most  beautiful  in  our  neighbor- 
hood. I  hope  you  can  make  a  favorable  report." 

"  It  is  only  too  much  to  my  own  interest  to  do  so.  I  have 
been  mining  and  geologizing  in  Nevada  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains  for  three  or  four  years,  and  long  for  a  quiet,  or- 
dered life.  It  is  a  good  omen  that  I  have  found  a  neighbor 
in  advance  of  my  settlement.  I  have  often  ridden  fifty 
miles  to  meet  a  friend  who  cared  for  something  else  than 
horse-racing  or  monte;  and  your  six  miles, — it  is  but  a  step  ! " 

"  How  much  you  have  seen !  "  said  Joseph.  "  I  know 
very  little  of  the  world.  It  must  be  easy  for  you  to  take 
your  own  place  in  life. 

A  shade  passed  over  Philip  Held's  face.  "  It  is  only  easy 
to  a  certain  class  of  men,"  he  replied, — "  a  class  to  which  I 
should  not  care  to  belong.  I  begin  to  think  that  nothing  is 
very  valuable,  the  right  to  which  a  man  don't  earn, — ex- 
cept human  love,  and  that  seems  to  come  by  the  grace  of 
God." 


JOPKPII    AXD    ITIS    FKIKXR  95 

"  I  am  younger  llin.ii  yon  are, — not  yet  twenty-throe," 
Jose])li  remarked.  "You  will  find  that  1  am  very  ignorant." 

"  And  I  am  twenty-eight,  and  just  beginning  to  get  my 
eyes  open,  like  a  nine-days'  kitten.  .If  I  had  been  frank 
enough  to  confess  my  ignorance,  five  years  ar:;o,  as  you  do 
now.  it  would  have  been  better  for  me.  But  don't  let  us 
measure  ourselves  or  our  experience  against  each  other. 
That  is  one  good  thing  we  learn  in  Rocky  Mountain 
life  ;  there  is  no  high  or  low,  knowledge  or  ignorance,  except 
what  applies  to  the  needs  of  men  who  come  together.  So 
there  are  needs  which  most  men  have,  and  go  all  their  lives 
hungering  for,  because  they  expect  them  to  be  supplied  in  a 
particular  form.  There  is  something,"  Philip  concluded, 
"  deeper  than  that  in  human  nature." 

Joseph  longed  to  open  his  heart  to  this  man,  every  one  of 
whose  words  struck  home  to  something  in  himself.  But  the 
lassitude  which  the  shock  left  behind  gradually  overcame 
him.  He  suffered  his  head  to  be  drawn  upon  Philip  Held's 
shoulder,  and  slept  until  the  train  reached  Oakland  Station. 
When  the  two  got  upon  the  platform,  they  found  Dennis 
waiting  for  Joseph,  with,  a  light  country  vehicle.  The  news 
of  the  accident  had  reached  the  station,  and  his  dismay  was 
great  when  he  saw  the  two  bloody  faces.  A  physician  had 
already  been  summoned  from  the  neighboring  village,  but 
they  had  little  need  of  his  services.  A  prescription  of  quiet 
and  sedatives  for  Joseph,  and  a  strip  of  plaster  for  his  com- 
panion, were  speedily  furnished,  and  they  set  out  together 
for  the  Asten  place. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  Rachel  Miller's  agitation 
when  the  party  arrived ;  or  the  parting  of  the  two  men  who 
had  been  so  swiftly  brought  near  to  each  other ;  or  Philip 
Held's  farther  journey  to  the  forge  that  evening.  He  re- 


90  jor-F.rir  AND  HIS  FPJEXD. 

sistod  all  entreaty  to  remain  at,  the  farm  until  morning,  on 
the  ground  of  an  appointment  made  with  the  present  pro- 
prietor of  the  forge.  After  his  departure  Joseph  was  sent 
to  bed,  where  he  remained  for  a  day  or  two,  very  sore  and 
a  little  feverish.  Tie  had  plenty  of  time  for  thought, — not 
precisely  of  the  kind  which  his  aunt  suspected,  for  out  of 
pure,  honest  interest  in  his  welfare,  she  took  a  step  which 
proved  to  be  of  doubtful  benefit.  If  he  had  not  been  so  in- 
nocent,— if  he  had  not  been  quite  as  unconscious  of  his  in- 
ner nature  as  he  was  over-conscious  of  his  external  self, — 
lie  would  have  perceived  that  his  thoughts  dwelt  much  more 
on  Philip  Held  than  on  Julia  Blessing.  His  mind  seemed 
to  run  through  a  swift,  involuntary  chain  of  reasoning,  to 
account  to  himself  for  his  feeling  towards  her,  and  her  in- 
evitable share  in  his  future  ;  but  towards  Philip  his  heart 
sprang  with  an  instinct  beyond  his  control.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  imagine  that  the  latter  also  would  not  be  shot,  like 
a  bright  thread,  through  the  web  of  his  coming  days. 

On  the  third  morning,  when  he  had  exchanged  the  bed  for 
an  arm-chair,  a  letter  from  the  city  was  brought  to  him. 
"  Dearest  Joseph,"  it  ran,  "  what  a  fright  and  anxiety  we 
have  had !  When  pa  brought  the  paper  home,  last  night, 
and  I  read  the  report  of  the  accident,  where  it  said,  '  J~. 
Asten,  severe  contusions,'  my  heart  stopped  beating  for  a 
minute,  and  I  can  only  write  now  (as  you  see)  with  a 
trembling  hand.  My  first  thought  was  to  go  directly  to 
you  ;  but  ma  said  we  had  better  wait  for  intelligence.  Un- 
less our  engagement  were  generally  known,  it  would  give 
rise  to  remarks, — in  short,  I  need  not  repeat  to  you  all  the 
worldly  reasons  with  which  she  opposed  rue  ;  but,  oh,  how  I 
longed  for  the  right  to  be  at  your  side,  and  assure  myself 
that  the  dreadful,  dreadful  danger  has  passed !  Pa  was 


JOSKIMI    AM)    HI?    FUIK.M).  \)( 

quite  shaken  with  the  news:  ho  felt  hardly  able  to  goto  the 
Custom-House  this  morning,  But  he  sides  \vith  ma  about 
my  goijig,  and  now,  \vhni  my  time,  as  a  daughter  with  them 
is  growing  so  short,  L  dare  not  disobey.  I  know  you  will 
understand  my  position,  yet,  dear  and  true  as  you  are,  you 
cannot  guess  the  anxiety  \\ilh  which  I  await  a  line  from 
your  hand,  the  hand  that  was  so  nearly  taken,  from  me 
forever  !  " 

Joseph  read  the  letter  twice  and  was  about  to  commence 
it  for  the  third  time,  when  a  visitor  was  announced.  He 
had  barely  time  to  thrust  the  scented  sheet  into  his  pocket  ; 
and  the  bright  eyes  and  flushed  face  with  which  he  met  the 
.Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  convinced  both  that  gentleman  and  his 
aunt,  as  she  ushered  the  latter  into  the  room,  that  the  visit 
was  accepted  as  an  honor  and  a  joy. 

On  Mr.  Chaffinch's  face  the  air  of  authority  which  he  had 
been  led  to  believe  belonged  to  his  calling  had  not  quite  suc- 
ceeded in  impressing  itself;  but  melancholy,  the  next  best 
thing,  was  strongly  marked.  His  dark  complexion  and  his 
white  cravat  intensified  each  other ;  and  his  eyes,  so  long 
uplifted  above  the  concerns  of  this  world,  had  ceased  to  vary 
their  expression  materially  for  the  sake  of  any  human  inter- 
est. All  this  had  been  expected  of  him,  and  he  had  simply 
done  Ids  best  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  flock  over 
which  he  was  placed.  Any  of  the  latter  might  have  easily 
been  shrewd  enough  to  guess,  in  advance,  very  nearly  what 
the  pastor  would  say,  upon  a  given  occasion  ;  but  each  and 
all  of  them  would  have  been  both  disappointed  and  dis- 
turbed if  lie  had  not  said  it. 

After  appropriate  and  sympathetic  inquiries  concerning 
Joseph's  bodily  condition,  lie  proceeded  to  probe  him  spiri- 
tually. 


98  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FUIKND. 

"  It  was  a  merciful  preservation.  I  Imp;)  you  feel  that  it 
is  a  solemn  tiling  to  look  Death  in  ih<;  face." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  death,"  Joseph  replied. 

"  Yon  mean  the  physical  pang,  jiiit  death  includes  what 
conies  after  it, — judgment.  That  is  a  very  awful  thought." 

"  It  may  he  to  evil  men  ;  but  I  have  done  nothing  to 
make  me  fear  it." 

"  You  have  never  made  an  open  profession  of  faith  ;  yet 
it  may  he  that  grace  hart  reached  you,"  said  Mr.  Chaffinch. 
"  Have  yon  found  your  Saviour  ?  " 

"  I  believe  in  him  with  all  my  soul !  "  Joseph  exclaimed  ; 
"  but  you  mean  something  else  by  '  finding '  him.  I  will  be 
candid  with  you,  Mr.  Chaffinch.  The  last  sermon  I  heard 
you  preach,  a  month  ago,  was  upon  the  nullity  of  all  good 
works,  all  Christian  deeds ;  you  called  them  '  rags,  dust,  and 
ashes,'  and  declared  that  man  is  saved  by  faith  alone.  I 
have  faith,  but  I  can't  accept  a  doctrine  which  denies  merit 
to  works  ;  and  you,  unless  I  accept  it,  will  you  admit  that  I 
have  «  found '  Christ  ?  " 

"  There  is  but  One  Truth  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Chaffinch, 
very  severely. 

"  Yes,"  Joseph  answered,  reverently,  "  and  that  is  only 
perfectly  known  to  God." 

The  clergyman  was  more  deeply  annoyed  than  he  cared  to 
exhibit.  His  experience  had  been  confined  chiefly  to  the 
encouragement  of  ignorant  souls,  willing  to  accept  his  mes- 
sage, if  they  could  only  be  made  to  comprehend  it,  or  to  the 
conflict  with  downright  doubt  and  denial.  A  nature  so 
seemingly  open  to  the  influences  of  the  Spirit,  yet  inflexibly 
closed  to  certain  points  of  doctrine,  was  something  of  a 
problem  to  him.  He  belonged  to  a  class  now  happily  be- 
coming scarce,  who,  having  been  taught  to  pace  a  reasoned 


tlroL.-gieal  round,  ca 
who  voluntarily  com; 

His  habit  of  con 
moderately  fru  ndly  manner,  us  ho  took  L*ave  :  '•  \Vo  will 
talk  agiiin  "\vhen  you  are  stroiig-.-r.  It  is  my  uutv  to  give 
spiritual  help  to  those  who  seek  it.'' 

To  Kachel  Miller  he  said  :  "  1  cannot  say  tliat  he  is  dark. 
His  mind  is  cloudy,  but  we  find  that  the  vanities  of  youth 
often  obscure  the  true  light  for  a  time." 

Joseph  leaned  back  in  his  arm-chair,  closed  his  eyes,  and 
meditated  earnestly  for  half  an  hour.  E;ichel  Miller,  uncer- 
tain whether  to  be  hopeful  or  discouraged  by  Mr.  Chaffinch's 
words,  stole  into  the  room,  but  went  about  on  tiptoe,  sup- 
posing him  to  be  asleep.  Joseph  was  fully  conscious  of  all 
her  movements,  and  at  hist  startled  her  by  the  sudden 
question  : — 

"  Aunt,  why  do  you  suppose  I  went  to  the  city  ?  " 

"  Goodness,  Joseph !  I  thought  you  were  sound  asleep. 
I  suppose  to  see  about  the  fall  prices  for  grain  and  cattle." 

"  ISTo,  aunt,"  said  he,  *  speaking  with  determination, 
though,  the  foolish  blood  ran  rosily  over  his  face,  "  I  went 
to  get  a  wife !  " 

She  stood  pale  and  speechless,  staring  at  him.  But  for 
the  rosy  sign  on  his  cheeks  and  temples  she  could  not  have 
believed  his  words. 

"  Miss  Blessing  ?  "  she  finally  uttered,  almost  in  a  whisper. 
Joseph  nodded  his  head.     She  dropped  into  the  nearest 
chair,  drew  two  or  three  long  breaths,  and  in  an  indescriba- 
ble tone  ejaculated,  "Well !  " 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  surprised,"  said  he  ;  "  because  it 
is  almost  a  surprise  to  myself.  But  you  and  she  seemed  to 
fall  so  easily  into  each  other's  ways,  that  I  hope —  " 


100  .TOPKPH    AND    HIS    FRIKXD. 

"  Why,  you're  hardly  ;;eouair,led  with  her!"  Rachel  ex- 
claimed. ''  It  is  so  luisiy  !  And  you  are  so  young  !  " 

"  No  younger  than  father  was  when  he  marrir-d  mother; 
and  I  havo  learned  to  know  lier  well  in  a  short  lime.  Isn't 
it  so  with  you,  too,  aunt  ? — you  certainly  liked  her?  '' 

"  I'll  not  deny  that,  nor  say  the  reverse  now  :  but  a  farm- 
er's wife  should  be  a  farmer's  daughter." 

"  But  suppose,  aunt,  that  the  farmer  doesn't  happen  to 
love  any  farmer's  daughter,  and  does  love  a  blight,  amiable, 
very  intelligent  girl,  who  is  delighted  with  country  life, 
eager  and  willing  to  learn,  and  very  fond  of  the  farmer's 
aunt  (who  can  teach  her  everything)  ?  " 

"  Still,  it  seems  to  me  a  risk,"  said  Rachel ;  but  she  was 
evidently  relenting. 

''  There  is  none  to  you,"  he  ansAvered,  "  and  I  am  not 
afraid  of  mine.  You  will  be  with  us,  for  Julia  couldn't  do 
without  you,  if  she  wished.  If  she  were  a  farmer's  daugh- 
ter, with  different  ideas  of  housekeeping,  it  might  bring 
trouble  to  both  of  us.  But  now  you  will  have  the  manage- 
ment in  your  own  hands  until  you  have  taught  Jxilia,  and 
afterwards  she  will  carry  it  on  in  your  way." 

She  did  not  reply  ;  but  Joseph  could  see  that  she  was  be- 
coming reconciled  to  the  prospect.  After  awhile  she  came 
across  the  room,  leaned  over  him,  kissed  him  upon  the  fore- 
head, and  then  silently  went  away. 


FKIK.XD.  101 


CHAPTER  X, 


ONLY  two  months  intervened  until  the  time  appointed  for 
the  marriage,  and  the  days  rolled  swiftly  away.  A  few  lines 
carne  to  Joseph  from  Philip  Held,  announcing  that  he  was 
satisfied  with  the  forge  and  furnace,  and  the  sale  would 
doubtless  be  consummated  in  a  short  time.  He  did  not, 
however,  expect  to  take  charge  of  the  works  before  March, 
and  therefore  gave  Joseph  his  address  in  the  city,  with  the 
hope  that  the  latter  would  either  visit  or  write  to  him. 

On  the  Sunday  after  the  accident  Elwood  Withers  came 
to  the  farm.  He  seemed  to  have  grown  older  in  the  short 
time  which  had  elapsed  since  they  had  last  met ;  after  his  first 
hearty  rejoicing  over  Joseph's  escape  and  recovery,  he  re- 
lapsed into  a  silent  but  not  unfriendly  mood.  The  two  young 
men  climbed  the  long  hill  behind  the  house  and  seated  them- 
selves under  a  noble  pin-oak  on  the  height,  whence  there  was 
a  lovely  view  of  the  valley  for  many  miles  to  the  southward. 

They  talked  mechanically,  for  a  while,  of  the  season,  and 
the  crops,  and  the  other  usual  subjects  which  farmers  never 
get  to  the  end  of  discussing ;  but'both  felt  the  impendence 
of  more  important  themes,  and,  nevertheless,  were  slow  to 
approach  them.  At  last  Elwood  said  :  "  Your  fate  is  settled 
by  this  time,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  It  is  arranged,  at  least,"  Joseph  replied.  "  But  I  can't 
yet  make  clear  to  myself  that  I  shall  be  a  married  man  in 
two  months  from  now." 


102  JOSKHI     A.\J)    I!  IS    FRIKXD. 

"  Does  (he  time  seem  long  to  you  ?  " 

"  ZSo,"  Joseph  innocently  answered  ;   "it  is  very  short." 

Elwood  tuni;H.l  away  his  head  to  conceal  a  melancholy 
smile  ;  it  was;  a  few  minutes  before  lie  spoke  again. 

"  Joseph,"  he  then  said,  "  arc  you  sure,  quite  sure,  you 
love  her  si  " 

"  I  am  to  many  her." 

"  I  meant  nothing  unfriendly,"  Elwood  remarked,  in  a 
gentle  tone.  "  My  thought  was  this,' — if  you  should  ever 
find  a  still  stronger  love  growing  upon  you, — something  that 
would  make  the  warmth  you  feel  now  seem  like  ice  compared 
to  it, — how  would  you  be  able  to  fight  it  ?  I  asked  the  ques- 
tion of  myself  for  you.  1  don't  think  I'm  much  different 
from  most  soft-hearted  men, — except  that  I  keep  the  softness 
so  well  stowed  aAvay  that  few  persons  know  of  it, — but  if  I 
were  in  your  place,  within  two  months  of  marriage  to  the 
girl  I  love,  I  should  be  miserable  !  " 

Joseph  turned  towards  him  with  wide,  astonished  eyes. 

"  Miserable  from  hope  and  fear,"  Elwood  went  on  ;  "  I 
should  be  afraid  of  fever,  fire,  murder,  thunderbolts  !  Every 
hour  of  the  day  I  should  dread  lest  something  might  come 
between  us  ;  I  shoxild  prowl  around  her  house  day  after  day, 
to  be  sure  that  she  was  alive  !  I  should  lengthen  out  the 
time  into  years ;  and  all  because  I'm  a  great,  disappointed, 
soft-hearted  fool !  " 

The  sad,  yearning  expression  of  his  eyes  touched  Joseph 
to  the  heart.  "  Elwood,"  he  said,  "  I  see  that  it  is  not  in 
my  power  to  comfort  you  ;  if  I  give  you  pain  unknowingly, 
tell  me  how  to  avoid  it !  I  meant  to  ask  you  to  stand  be- 
side me  when  I  am  married  ;  but  now  you  must  consider 
your  own  feelings  in  answering,  not  mine.  Lucy  is  not 
likely  to  be  there." 


103 


a  chance  to  measure  myself  with  her,  and  to  gu-.'ss — sometiin-s 
tlds  and  sometimes  that — what  it  is  that  sin:  needs  to  find  in 
me.  Force  ufwill  is  of  no  use;  as  to  faithfulness. — why,  what 
it's  worth  can't  bo  shown  unless  something  turns  up  to  trv 
it.  But  you  had  better  not  ask  me  to  be  your  groomsman. 
Neither  Miss  Blessing  nor  her  sister  would  be  overly 
pleased." 

"Why  so?"  Joseph  asked;  "Julia  and  you  are  quite 
veil  acquainted,  and  she  was  always  friendly  towards  you." 

Elsvood  was  silent  and  embarrassed.  Then,  reflecting  that 
silence,  at  that  moment,  might  express  even  more  than 
speech,  he  said  :  "  I've  got  the  notion  in  my  head  ;  maybe 
it's  foolish,  but  there  it  is.  I  talked  a  good  deal  with 
Miss  Blessing,  it's  true,  and  yet  I  don't  feel  the  least  bit 
acquainted.  Her  manner  to  me  was  very  friendly,  and  yet 
I  don't  think  she  likes  me." 

"  Well  !  "  exclaimed  Joseph,  forcing  a  laugh,  though  he 
was  much  annoyed,  "  I  never  gave  you  credit  for  such  a 
lively  imagination.  Why  not  be  candid,  and  admit  that  the 
dislike  is  on  your  side  ?  I  am  sorry  for  it,  since  Julia  will 
so  soon  be  in  the  house  there  as  my  wife.  There  is  no  one 
else  whom  I  can  ask,  unless  it  were  Philip  Held — " 

"  Held  !  To  be  sure,  he  took  care  of  you.  I  was  at  Cov- 
entry the  day  after,  and  saw  something  of  him."  With 
these  words,  El  wood  turned  towards  Joseph  and  looked  him 
squarely  in  the  face.  "  He'll  have  charge  there  in  a  few 
months,  I  hear,"  he  then  said,  "  and  I  reckon  it  as  a  piece 
of  good  luck  for  you.  I've  found  that  there  are  men,  all, 
maybe,  as  honest  and  outspoken  as  they  need  be  ;  yet  two  of 


"104  JOSEPH    A^'I)    HIS    FRTKNT). 

'em  will  talk  at  different  marks  and  never  fully  understand 
each  other,  and  other  two  will  naturally  lalk  right  straight 
at  the  same  mark  and  never  miss.  Xow,  Held  is  the  sort  that 
can  hit  the  thing  in  the  mind  of  the  man  they're  talking  to  ; 
it's  a  gift  that  comes  o'  being  knocked  about  the  world 
among  all  classes  of  people.  What  we  learn  here,  always 
among  the  same  folks,  isn't  a  circumstance." 

"  Then  you  think  I  might  ask  him  ? "  said  Joseph,  not 
fully  comprehending  all  that  Elwood  meant  to  express. 

"  He's  one  of  those  men  that  you're  safe  in  asking  to  do 
anything.  Make  him  spokesman  of  a  committee  to  wait  on 
the  President,  arbitrator  in  a  crooked  lawsuit,  overseer  of  a 
railroad  gang,  leader  in  a  prayer-meeting  (if  he'd  consent), 
or  whatever  else  you  choose,  and  he'll  do  the  business  as  if 
he  was  used  to  it  !  It's  enough  for  you  that  I  don't  know 
the  town  ways,  and  he  does ;  it's  considered  worse,  I've 
heard,  to  make  a  blunder  in  society  than  to  commit  a  real  sin." 

He  rose,  and  they  loitered  down  the  hill  together.  The 
subject  was  quietly  dropped,  but  the  minds  of  both  were 
none  the  less  busy.  They  felt  the  stir  and  pressure  of  new 
experiences,  which  had  come  to  one  through  disappointment 
and  to  the  other  through  success.  Not  three  months  had 
passed  since  they  rode  together  through  the  twilight  to  War- 
riner's,  and  already  life  was  opening  to  them, — but  how  dif- 
ferently !  Joseph  endeavored  to  make  the  most  kindly  allow- 
ance for  his  friend's  mood,  and  to  persuade  himself  that  his 
feelings  were  unchanged.  Elwood,  however,  knew  that  a 
shadow  had  fallen  between  them.  It  was  nothing  beside  the 
cloud  of  his  greater  trouble  :  he  also  knew  the  cost  of  his  own 
justification  to  Joseph,  and  prayed  that  it  might  never  come. 

That  evening,  on  taking  leave,  he  said :  "  I  don't  know 
whether  you  meant  to  have  the  news  of  your  engagement 


105 


•whole  neighborhood,  doesn't  it  ?  ;' 
en  the  liii.-i/hiel  is  alrea<lv  d'>ne,  if  it 
..  therefore,  tliat  l.liu  day  is  set:  tho 
neighborhood  will  have  link-  time  for  gossip." 

He  smiled  so  frankly  and  cheerfully,  that  Elwood  seixed 
his  hand,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  said  :  "  iJuii't  remember 
anything  against  me,  Joseph.  I've  always  been  honestly 
your  friend,  and  mean  to  stay  so." 

lie  went  that  evening  to  a  homestead  where  he  knew  he 
should  find  Lucy  Henderson.  She  looked  pale  and  fatigued, 
lie  thought ;  possibly  his  presence  had  become  a  restraint.  If 
so,  she  must  bear  his  unkindness  :  it  was  the  only  sacrifice 
he  could  not  make,  for  he  felt  sure  that  his  intercourse  with 
her  must  either  terminate  in  hate  or  love.  The  one  thing  of 
which  he  was  certain  was,  that  there  could  be  no  calm,  com- 
placent friendship  between  them. 

It  was  not  long  before  one  of  the  family  asked  him  whether 
he  had  heard  the  news ;  it  seemed  that  they  had  already  dis- 
cussed it,  and  his  arrival  revived  the  flow  of  expression.  In 
spite  of  his  determination,  he  found  it  impossible  to  watch 
Lucy  while  he  said,  as  simply  as  possible,  that  Joseph  Asten 
seemed  very  happy  over  the  prospect  of  the  marriage  ;  that 
he  was  old  enough  to  take  a  wife  ;  and  if  Miss  Blessing  could 
adapt  herself  to  country  habits,  they  might  get  on  very  well 
together.  But  later  in  the  evening  he  took  a  chance  of  say- 
ing to  her:  "In  spite  of  what  I  said,  Lucy,  I  don't  feel 
quite  easy  about  Joseph's  marriage.  What  do  you  think  of 
it?" 

She  smiled  faintly,  as  she  replied :  "  Some  say  that  people 

are  attracted  by  mutual  unlikeness.     This  seems  to  me  to  be 
5* 


100  JO>K1'II     AND    HIS    FKIK.Vn. 

a  case  of  the  land  ;  but  they  are  free  choosers  of  their  own 
fates." 

"  Is  there  no  possible  way  of  persuading  him — them — to 
delay  ?  " 

"No!"  .site  exclaimed,  with  unusuid  energy;  '''110110 
whatever  !  " 

El  wood  sighed,  and  yet  felt  relieved. 

Joseph  lost  110  time  in  writing  to  Philip  Held,  announc- 
ing his  approaching  marriage,  and  begging  him — with  many 
apologies  for  asking  such  a  mark  of  confidence  on  so  short 
an  acquaintance — to  act  the  part  of  nearest  friend,  if  there 
were  no  other  private  reasons  to  prevent  him. 

Four  or  five  days  later  the  following  answer  arrived  : — 

MY  DEAII  ASTEX  : — Do  yon  remember  that  curious  whirl- 
ing, falling  sensation,  when  the  car  pitched  over  the  edge  of 
the  embankment  ?  I  felt  a  return  of  it  on  reading  your  letter  ; 
for  you  have  surprised  me  beyond  measure.  ISTot  by  your 
request,  for  that  is  just  what  I  should  have  expected  of  you  ; 
and  as  well  now,  as  if  we  had  known  each  other  for  twenty 
years ;  so  the  apology  is  the  only  thing  objectionable —  But 
I  am  tangling  my  sentences  ;  I  want  to  say  how  'heartily  I  re- 
turn the  feeling  which  prompted  you  to  ask  me,  and  yet  how 
embarrassed  1  am  that  I  cannot  unconditionally  say,  "  Yes, 
•with  all  my  heart  !  "  My  great,  astounding  surprise  is,  to 
find  you  about  to  be  married  to  Miss  Julia  Blessing, — a 
young  lady  whom  I  once  knew.  And  the  embarrassment  is 
this :  I  knew  her  under  circumstances  (in  which  she  was  not 
personally  concerned,  however)  which  might  possibly  render 
my  presence  now,  as  your  groomsman,  unwelcome  to  the 
family :  at  least,  it  is  my  duty — and  yours,  if  .you  still 
desire  me  to  stand  beside  you — to  let  Miss  Blessing  and  her 


JO>KJ.'li    AXD    Tils    FKJKM).  107 

familv  decide  ihc  question.  The  circumstances  to  which  I 
refer  concern  tin 'm  ruther  than  my,-,Hf.  1  think  yonr  be.st 
plan  will  be  simply  to  inform  them  of  your  ivouest  and  niy 
reply,  and  r.dd  that  1  a;n  entirely  ready  to  accept  whatever 
course  tlit'v  niav  prefer. 

Pray  don't  consider  that  1  have  treated  your  first  letter  to 
me  ungraciously.  I  am  more  grieved  than  you  can  imagine 
that  it  happens  so.  You  will  probably  come  to  the  city  a 
day  before  the  wedding,  and  I  insist  that  you  shall  share  my 
bachelor  quarters,  in  any  case. 

Always  your  friend, 

PHILIP  HELD. 


This  letter  threw  Joseph  into  a  new  perplexity.  Philip  a 
former  acquaintance  of  the  Blessings  !  Formerly,  but  not 
now  ;  and  what  could  those  mysterious  "  circumstances " 
have  been,  which  had  so  seriously  interrupted  their  inter- 
course? It  was  quite  useless  to  conjecture;  but  lie  could 
not  resist  the  feeling  that  another  shadow  hung  over  the  as- 
pects of  his  future.  Perhaps  he  had  exaggerated  Elwood's 
unaccountable  dislike  to  Julia,  which  had  only  been  im- 
plied, not  spoken  ;  but  here  was  a  positive  estrangement  on 
the  part  of  the  man  who  was  so  suddenly  near  and  dear  to 
him.  He  never  thought  of  suspecting  Philip  of  blame  ;  the 
candor  and  cheery  warmth  of  the  letter  rejoiced  his  heart. 
There  was  evidently  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  follow  the 
advice  contained  in  it,  and  leave  the  question  to  the  decision 
of  Julia  and  her  parents. 

Her  reply  did  not  come  by  the  return  mail,  nor  until 
nearly  a  week  afterwards ;  during  which  time  lie  tormented 
himself  by  imagining  the  wildest  reasons  for  her  silence. 


JOSKI'II     AXl)    III*    F.II1ENT). 

When  tlic  letter  at  last  arrived,  lie   had   some   difficulty  in 
comprehending  its  import. 

"  Dearest  Joseph,"  she  said,  "you  must  m.dly  forgive  me 
this  long  trial  of  your  patience.  Your  letter  was  so  unex- 
pected,— I  mean  its  contents,— and  it  seems  as  if  ma  and  pa 
and  Clementina  would  never  agree  what  was  Lest  to  Le  done. 
For  that  matter,  I  cannot  say  that  they  agree  now ;  we  had 
no  idea  that  you  were  an.  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Held,  (I 
can't  think  how  ever  you  should  have  become  acquainted  !) 
and  it  seems  to  break  open  old  wounds, — none  of  mine,  for- 
tunately, for  I  have  none.  As  Mr.  Held  leaves  the  question 
in  our  hands,  there  is,  you  will  understand,  all  the  more  ne- 
cessity that  we  should  be  careful.  Ma  thinks  he  has  said 
nothing  to  you  about  the  unfortunate  occurrence,  or  you 
would  have  expressed  an  opinion.  You  never  can  know  how 
happy  your  fidelity  makes  me ;  but  I  felt  that,  the  first  mo- 
ment we  met. 

"  Ma  says  that  at  very  private  (what  pa  calls  informal) 
weddings  there  need  not  be  bridesmaids  or  groomsmen. 
Miss  Morrisey  was  married  that  way,  not  long  ago  ;  it  is  true 
that  she  is  not  of  our  circle,  nor  strictly  a  first  family  (this 
is  ma's  view,  not  mine,  for  I  understand  the  hollowness  of 
society)  ;  but  we  could  veiy  well  do  the  same.  Pa  would  be 
satisfied  with  a  reception  afterwards ;  he  wants  to  ask  the 
Collector,  and  the  Surveyor,  and  the  Appraiser.  Clementina 
won't  say  anything  now,  but  I  know  what  she  thinks,  and 
so  does  ma ;  however,  Mr.  Held  has  so  dropped  out  of  city 
life  that  it  is  not  important.  I  suppose  everything  must  be 
dim  in  his  memory  now ;  you  do  not  write  to  me  much  that 
he  related.  How  strange  that  he  should  be  your  friend ! 
They  say  my  dress  is  lovely,  but  I  am  sure  I  should  like  a 
plain  muslin  just  as  well.  I  shall  only  breathe  freely  when 


109 

I  get  brick  to  tlic  quiet  of  the  country,  (and  your — our 
charming  home,  and  clear,  good  Aunt  Kachel  !)  and  away 
from  all  these  conventional  forms.  Ala  says  if  there  is  one 
groomsman,  there  ought  to  l>e  tvvT>  ;  cither  very  simple,  or 
according  to  custom.  In  a  matter  so  delicate,  perhaps,  Mr. 
Held  would  be  as  competent  to  decide  as  we  are  ;  at  least  1 
am  quite  willing  to  leave  it  to  Ids  judgment.  But  how  tri- 
fling is  all  this  discussion,  compared  with  the  importance  of 
the  day  to  us  !  It  is  now  drawing  very  near,  but  I  have  no 
misgivings,  for  I  confide  in  you  wholly  and  forever  ! " 

After  reading  the  letter  with  as  much  coolness  as  was 
then  possible  to  him,  Joseph  inferred  three  things :  that  his 
acquaintance  with  Philip  Held  was  not  entirely  agreeable  to 
the  Blessing  family ;  that  they  would  prefer  the  simplest 
style  of  a  wedding,  and  this  was  in  consonance  with  his  own 
tastes ;  and  that  Julia  clung  to  him  as  a  deliverer  from  con- 
ditions with  which  her  natxire  had  little  sympathy.  Her 
incoherence,  he  fancied,  arose  from  an  agitation  which  he 
could  very  well  understand,  and  his  answer  was  intended  to 
soothe  and  encourage  her.  It  was  difficult  to  let  Philip 
know  that  his  services  would  not  be  required,  withoxit  im- 
plying the  existence  of  an  unfriendly  feeling  towards 
him ;  and  Joseph,  therefore,  all  the  more  readily  accepted 
his  invitation.  He  was  assured  that  the  mysterious  difficulty 
did  not  concern  Julia ;  even  if  it  were  so,  he  was  not  called 
upon  to  do  violence,  without  cause,  to  so  welcome  a  friendship. 

The  September  days  sped  by,  not  with  the  lingering,  pas- 
sionate uncertainty  of  which  Elwood  Withers  spoke,  but 
almost  too  swiftly.  In  the  hurry  of  preparation,  Joseph  had 
scarcely  time  to  look  beyond  the  coming  event  and  estimate 
its  consequences.  He  was  too  ignorant  of  himself  to  doubt: 
his  conscience  was  too  pure  and  perfect  to  admit  the  possi- 


110  jo-'Ki'i 

lulily  of  changing  the  course;  of  his  destiny.  "\Vhatever  the 
gossip  of  the  neighborhood  might  have  been,  ho  heard 
nothing  of  it  that  was  not  agreeable.  His  auni;  was  entire- 
ly reconciled  to  a  wife  who  would  not  immediately,  and 
probably  not  for  a  long  time,  interfere  with  her  authority; 
and  the  shadows  raised  by  the  two  men  whom  he  loved  best 
seemed,  at  hist,  to  bo  accidentally  thrown  from  clouds  beyond 
the  horizon  of  his  life.  This  was  the  thought  to  which  he 
clung,  in  spite  of  a  vague,  utterly  formless  apprehension, 
which  he  felt  lurking  somewhere  in  the  very  bottom  of  his 
heart. 

Philip  met  him  011  his  arrival  in  the  city,  and  after  tak- 
ing him  to  his  pleasant  quarters,  in  a  house  looking  on  one 
of  the  leafy  squares,  good-naturedly  sent  him  to  the  Blessing 
mansion,  with  a  warning  to  return  before  the  evening  was 
quite  spent.  The  family  was  in  a  nutter  of  preparation? 
and  though  he  was  cordially  welcomed,  he  felt  that,  to  all 
except  Julia,  he  was  subordinate  in  interest  to  the  men  who 
came  every  quarter  of  an  hour,  bringing  bouquets,  and  silver 
spoons  with  cards  attached,  and  pasteboard  boxes  containing 
frosted  cakes.  Even  Julia's  society  he  was  only  allowed  to 
enjoy  by  scanty  instalments  ;  she  was  perpetually  summoned 
by  her  mother  or  Clementina,  to  consult  about  some  inde- 
scribable figment  of  dress.  Mr.  Blessing  was  occupied  in 
the  basement,  with  the  inspection  of  various  hampers.  He 
came  to  the  drawing-room  to  greet  Joseph,  whom  he  shook 
by  both  hands,  with  such  incoherent  phrases  that  Julia 
presently  interposed.  "  You  must  not  forget,  pa,"  she  said, 
"  that  the  man  is  waiting :  Joseph  will  excuse  you,  1  know." 
She  followed  him  to  the  basement,  and  he  returned  no 
more. 

Joseph  left  early  in  the  evening,  cheered  by  Julia's  words  : 


Ill 


'•'"We  c.Mi  i  c-ei;i;ilain  (it  i\M  tins  comu>ioii,  when  it  s  tor  our 
sakes  ;  bur  v.v'll  be  happier  wh<  n  it's  over,  won't  we  '.'  '' 

lie  rjavr  her  ,ni  aiiirmative  kj<s  and  returned  to  Philip's 
room.  That  ^eutloinan  was  comfortably  deposed  in  an  arm- 
chair, with  a  book  and  a  ci^ar.  ''  Ah  !  "  lie  exclaimed,  "  you 
find  tLat  a  Louse  is  more  agreeable  any  evening  than  tliat 
before  the  wedding  ?  ;' 

''  Tlicre  is  raie  comjtensation,"  said  Joseph  ;  ';  it  gi\'es  mo 
two  or  three  hours  with  you." 

"  Then  take  that  other  arm-chair,  and  tell  me  how  this  came, 
to  i>ass.  You  see  I  have  the  curiositv  of  a  neighbor,  already." 

1  -L.  (_-  7  f 

lie  listened  earnestly  while  Joseph  related  the  story  of  his 
love,  occasionally  asking  a  question  or  making  a  suggestive 
remark,  but  so  gently  that  it  seemed  to  come  as  an  assistance. 
When  all  had  been  told,  he  rose  and  commenced  walking 
slowly  up  and  clown  the  room.  Joseph  longed  to  ask,  in 
turn,  for  an  explanation  of  the  circumstances  mentioned  in 
Philip's  letter ;  but  a  doubt  checked  his  tongue. 

As  if  in  response  to  his  thought,  Philip  stopped  before 
him  and  said  :  "  I  owe  you  niy  story,  and  you  shall  have  it 
after  a  while,  when  I  can  tell  you  more.  I  was  a  young  fel- 
low of  twenty  when  I  knew  the  Blessings,  and  I  don't  at- 
tach the  slightest  importance,  now,  to  anything  that  happened. 
Even  if  I  did,  Miss  Julia  had  no  share  in  it.  I  remember  her 
distinctly ;  she  was  then  about  my  age,  or  a  year  or  two  older ; 
but  hers  is  a  face  that  would  not  change  in  a  long  while." 

Joseph  stared  at  his  friend  in  silence.  He  recalled  the  lat- 
ter's  age,  and  was  startled  by  the  involuntary  arithmetic 
which  revealed  Julia's  to  him.  It  was  unexpected,  unwel- 
come, yet  inevitable. 

"  Her  father  had  been  lucky  in  some  of  his  '  operations,' " 
•Philip  continued,  "but  I  don't  think  he  kept  it  long.  I 


112  JOSKPII    AND    IHS    KKIKXD. 

hardly  wonder  that  sin;  .should  como  to  prefer  a  quirt  eouu- 
Irvlifo  to  such  ups  and  downs  as  the  family  has  known. 
(Jeuerally,  a  woman  don't  adapt  herself  so  readily  to  a  ch;i  nge 
of  surroundings  as  a  man:  where  then;  is  love,  however, 
everything  is  possible." 

"There  is!  there  is  !"  Joseph  exclaimed,  certifying  the 
fact  to  himself  as  much  as  to  his  friend,  lie  rose  and  stood 
beside  him. 

Philip  looked  at  him  with  grave,  tender  eyes. 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  he  said. 

"  What  should  you  do  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"This!  "  Philip  exclaimed,  laying  his  hands  on  Joseph's 
shoulders, — "  this,  Joseph  !  I  can  be  nearer  than  a  brother. 
I  know  that  I  am  in  your  heart  as  you  are  in  mine.  There 
is  no  faith  between  us  that  need  be  limited,  there  is  no  truth 
too  secret  to  be  veiled.  A  man's  perfect  friendship  is  rarer 
than  a  woman's  love,  and  most  hearts  are  content  with  one 
or  the  other :  not  so  with  yours  and  mine  !  1  read  it  in 
your  eyes,  when  you  opened  them  on  my  knee:  I  see  it  in 
your  face  now.  Don't  speak :  let  us  clasp  hands." 

But  Joseph  could  not  speak. 


JOSEPH    A.XP    UTS    FRIEND.  113 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A     C  I  T  V     Vr  E  I)  D  I  X  G  . 

TIIEHE  was  not  mucli  of  the  happy  bridegoom  to  be  seen 
in  Joseph's  face  when  he  arose  the  next  morning.  To  Phil- 
ip's eyes  he  appeared  to  have  suddenly  grown  several  years 
older;  his  features  had  lost  their  boyish  softness  and  sweet- 
ness,  which  would  thenceforth  never  wholly  come  back 
again.  He  spoke  but  little,  and  went  about  his  preparation 
with  an  abstracted,  mechanical  air,  which  told  how  much 
his  mind  was  preoccupied.  Philip  quietly  assisted,  and 
when  all  was  complete,  led  him  before  the  mirror. 

"There!"  he  said;  "now  study  the  general  effect;  I 
think  nothing  more  is  wanting." 

"  It  hardly  looks  like  myself,"  Joseph  remarked,  after  a 
careless  inspection. 

"In  all  the  Aveddings  I  have  seen,"  said  Philip,  "the 
bridegrooms  were  pale  and  grave,  the  brides  flushed  and 
trembling.  You  will  not  make  an  exception  to  the  rule ; 
but  it  is  a  solemn  thing,  and  I — don't  misunderstand  me, 
Joseph — I  almost  wish  you  were  not  to  be  married  to-day." 
'  "  Philip  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed,  "  let  me  think,  now,  at 
least, — now,  at  the  last  moment, — that  it  is  best  for  me ! 
If  you  knew  how  cramped,  restricted,  fe'ttered,  my  life  has- 
been,  and  how  much  emancipation  has  already  come  with 
this — this  love  !  Perhaps  my  marriage  is  a  venture,  but  it 
is  one  which  must  be  made ;  and  no  consequence  of  it  shall 
ever  come  between  us !  " 


114  JOSKP11    AM)    m>    FKIKXD. 

"No;  .".iid  1  ought  not  to  ]i;ivo  spoken  a  word  that  might 
imply  a  doubt.  It  may  bo  tliat  your  emancipation,  as  you 
rightly  term  it,  can  only  come  in  this  way.  .My  life  lias 
been  HO  diJlurent,  that  I  am  unconsciously  putting  myself  in 
your  place1,  instead  of  trying  to  look  with  your  eyes.  Y>  lien 
I  next  go  to  Coventry  Forge,  I  shall  drive  over  and  dine  with 
you,  and  I  hope  your  Julia  will  be  as  ready  to  receive  me  as  a 
friend  as  I  am  to  find  one  in  her.  There  is  the  carriage  at 
the  door,  and  you  had  better  arrive  a  little  before  the  appoint- 
ed hour.  Take  only  niy  good  wishes,  my  prayers  for  your 
happiness,  along  with  you, — and  now,  God  bless  you,  Joseph !" 
The  carriage  rolled  away.  Joseph,  in  full  wedding  cos- 
tume, was  painfully  conscious  of  the  curious  glances  which 
fell  upon  him,  and  presently  pulled  down  the  curtains. 
Then,  with  an  impatient  self-reprimand,  he  pulled  them  \ip 
again,  lowered  the  window,  and  let  the  air  blow  upon  his 
hot  cheeks.  The  house  was  speedily  reached,  and  he  was 
admitted  by  a  festive  waiter  (hired  for  the  occasion)  before 
he  had  been  exposed  for  more  than  five  seconds  to  the  gaze 
of  curious  eyes  in  all  the  windows  around. 

Mrs.  Blessing,  resplendent  in  put'ple,  and  so  bediglit  that 
she  seemed  almost  as  young  as  her  portrait,  swept  into  the 
drawing-room.  She  inspected  him  rapidly,  and  approved, 
while  advancing ;  otherwise  he  would  scarcely  have  received 
the  thin,  dry  kiss  with  which  she  favored  him. 

"  It  lacks  half  an  hour,"  she  said ;  "  but  you  have  the 
usual  impatience  of  a  bridegroom.  I  am  accustomed  to  it. 
Mr.  Blessing  is  still  in  his  room ;  he  has  only  just  commenc- 
ed arranging  his  cambric  cravat,  which  is  a  work  of  time. 
He  cannot  forget  that  he  was  distinguished  for  an  elegau.t 
tie  in  his  youth.  Clementina," — as  that  young  lady  entered 
the  room,—"  is  the  bride  completely  attired  ?  " 


115 


"All  but  her  gloves,"  replied  Clementina,  offering  three- 
fourihs  of  her  hand  to  Jos.'ph.  "'And  she  don't  know  what 
ear-rings  to  wear." 

"  1  think  we  might  venture,"'  Mrs.  Blessing  remarked, 
'•'as  thei'e  seems  to  be  ]io  rule  applicable  to  the  case,  to  allow 
Mr.  Asten  a  sight  of  his  bride.  Perhaps  his  taste  might  assist 
her  in  the  choice." 

Thereupon  she  conducted  Joseph  upstairs,  and,  after  some 
preliminary  whispering,  he  was  admitted  to  the  room.  He 
and  Julia  were  equally  surprised  at  the  change  in  each 
other's  appearance  :  he  older,  paler,  with  a  grave  and  serious 
bearing;  she  younger,  brighter,  rounder,  fresher,  and  with 
the  loveliest  pink  flush  on  her  cheeks.  The  gloss  of  her 
hair  rivalled' that  of  the  white  satin  which  draped  her  form 
and  gave  grace  to  its  outlines ;  her  neck  and  shoulders  were 
slight,  but  no  one  could  have  justly  called  them  lean;  and 
even  the  thinness  of  her  lips  was  forgotten  in  the  vivid  coral 
of  their  color,  and  the  nervous  life  which  hovered  about 
their  edges.  At  that  moment  she  was  certainly  beautiful, 
and  a  stranger  would  have  supposed  her  to  be  young. 

She  looked  into  Joseph's  face  with  a  smile  in  which  some 
appearance  of  maiden  shyness  yet  lingered.  A  shrewder 
bridegroom  would  have  understood  its  meaning,  and  would 
have  said,  "  How  lovely  you  are  !  "  Joseph,  it  is  true,  ex- 
perienced a  sense  of  relief,  bu  t  he  knew  not  why,  and  could 
not  for  his  life  have  put  it  into  words.  His  eyes  dwelt 
upon  and  followed  her,  and  she  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with 
that  form  of  recognition.  Mrs.  Blessing  inspected  the  dress 
with  a  severe  critical  eye,  pulling  out  a  fold  here  and 
smoothing  a  bit  of  lace  there,  until  nothing  further  could  be 
detected.  Then,  the  adornment  of  the  victim  being  com- 
pleted, she  sat  down  and  wept  moderately. 


110  .TOSKl'H    AM)    HIS    FIMK.VI). 

"  (')  ma,  try  to  boar  up  !  "  Julia  exclaimed,  with  the  very 
slightest  touch  of  impatience  in  her  voice;  "it  is  all  to  comw 
yet," 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  door. 

"It  must  be  your  aunt,"  said  Mrs.  Blessing,  drying  her 
eyes.  "My  sister,"  she  added,  turning  to  Joseph, — Mrs. 
Woollish,  with  Mr.  "VVoollish  and  their  two  sons  and  one 
daughter.  He's  in  the — the  leather  trade,  so  to  speak, 
which  has  thrown  her  into  a  very  different  circle  ;  but,  as 
we  have  no  nearer  relations  in.  the  city,  they  will  be  present 
at  the  ceremony.  He  is  said  to  be  wealthy.  I  have  no 
means  of  knowing;  but  one  would  scarcely  think  so,  to  judge 
from  his  wedding-gift  to  Julia," 

"  Ma,  why  should  you  mention  it  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  enlighten  Mr.  Asten.  Six  pairs  of  shoes  !—  • 
of  course  all  of  the  same  pattern ;  and  the  fashion  may 
change  in  another  year  !  " 

"  In  the  country  we  have  no  fashions  in  shoes,"  Joseph 
suggested. 

"  Certainly  !  "  said  Julia.  «  I  find  Uncle  Woollish's 
present  very  practical  indeed." 

Mrs.  Blessing  looked  at  her  daughter,  and  said  nothing. 

Mr.  Blessing,  very  red  in  the  face,  but  with  triumphant 
cambric  about  his  throat,  entered  the  room,  endeavoring  to 
get  his  fat  hands  into  a  pair  of  No.  9  gloves.  A  strong 
smell  of  turpentine  or  benzine  entered  with  him. 

"  Eliza,"  said  he,  "  you  must  find  me  some  eau  de  cologne. 
The  odor  left  from  my — my  rheumatic  remedy  is  still 
perceptible.  Indeed,  patchouly  would  be  better,  if  it  were 
not  the  scent  peculiar  to  parvenus" 

Clementina  came  to  say  that  the  clergyman's  carriage  had 
just  reached  the  door,  and  Mr.  Blessing  was  hurried  down 


"Julia,"  .said  Joseph  when  they  were  quite  alone,  "have 
you  thought  that  this  i*  for  lii'e  'J.  "' 

!*fhe  looked  up  with  a  u-ndcr  smile,  but  something  in  his 
face  arrested  it  on  her  lip*. 

'•"I  have  lived  ignorantly  until  now,"'  he  continued, — - 
"  innocently  and  ignorantly.  From  this  time  on.  I  shall 
change  more  than  vou,  and  there  may  be,  rears  hence,  a 

o  »,  ;  K  >     *.  } 

very  dilierent  J  o.seph  Asten  from  the  one  whose  name  you 
will  take  to-day.  If  you  love  me  with  the  love  I  claim  from 
you, — the  love  that  grows  with  and  through  all  new  know- 
ledge and  experience, —  there  will  be  no  discord  in  our  lives. 
We  must  both  be  liberal  anil  considerate  towards  each 
other ;  it  has  been  but  a  short  time  since  we  met,  and  we 
have  still  much  to  learn." 

"  O,  Joseph  !  "  she  murmured,  in  a  tone  of  gentle 
reproach,  "  I  knew  your  nature  at  first  sight." 

"  I  hope  you  did,"  he  answered  gravely,  "  for  then  you 
will  be  able  to  see  its  needs,  and  help  me  to  supply  them. 
But,  Julia,  there  must  nob  the  shadow  of  concealment  come 
between  us :  nothing  must  be  reserved.  I  understand  no 
love  that  does  not  include  perfect  trust.  I  must  draw 
nearer,  and  be  drawn  nearer  to  you,  constantly,  or — ' 

He  paused ;  it  was  no  time  to  utter  the  further  sentence 
in  his  mind.  Jiilia  glided  to  him,  clasped  her  arms  about 
his  waist,  and  laid  her  head  against  his  shotilder.  Although 
she  said  nothing,  the  act  was  eloquent.  It  expressed 
acquiescence,  trust,  fidelity,  the  surrender  of  her  life  to  his, 
and  no  man  in  his  situation  coitld  have  understood  it 
otherwise.  A  tenderness,  which  seemed  to  be  the  some- 


113  JOSEPH    AXD    IMS    FJIIEXD. 

li.iii^  hitherto  lacking  to  his  love,  crept  softly  oven-  hi;* 
heart,  and  the  lurking  unrest  be.gan  to  fade  from  his  face. 

There  was  a  ru:;l  le  on  the  stairs;  Clementina  and  Miss 
AVoollish  made  their  appearance.  "Mr.  J'ogue  has  ar- 
rived," whispered  the  former,  "  and  ma  thinks  you  should 
come  down  soon.  Are  you  entirely  ready;'  1  don't  think 
you  need  the  salts,  Julia;  but  you  might  carry  the;  bottle  in 
your  left  hand:  brides  are  expected  to  be  nervous." 

She  gave  a  light  laugh,  like  the  purl  and  bubble  of  a 
brook  ;  but  Joseph  shrank,  with  an  inward  chill,  from  the 
sound. 

"So!  shall  we  go?  Fanny  and  I — (I  beg  pardon  ;  Mr. 
Asten — Miss  Woollish) — •will  lead  the  way.  We  Avill  stand 
a  little  in  the  rear,  not  beside  you,  as  there  are  no  grooms- 
men. Remember,  the  farther  end  of  the  room  !  " 

They  rustled  slowly  downward,  in  advance,  and  the  bridal 
pair  followed.  The  clergyman,  Mr.  Bogue,  sxiddenly  broke 
off  in  the  midst  of  an  oracular  remark  about  the  weather, 
and,  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  awaited  them.  The 
other  members  of  the  two  families  were  seated,  and  very 
silent. 

Joseph  heard  the  introductory  remarks,  the  ceremony, 
and  the  final  benediction,  as  in  a  dream.  His  lips  opened 
mechanically,  and  a  voice  which  did  not  exactly  seem  to  be 
his  own  uttered  the  "  I  will ! "  at  the  proper  time ;  yet,  in 
recalling  the  experience  afterwards,  he  was  unable  to  decide 
whether  any  definite  thought  or  memory  or  hope  had  passed 
through  his  mind.  From  his  entrance  into  the  room  until 
his  hand  was  violently  shaken  by  Mr.  Blessing,  there  was  a 
blank. 

Of  course  there  were  tears,  but  the  beams  of  congratula- 
tion shone  through  them,  and  they  saddened  nobody.  Miss 


119 

Fannv  Vv'o; illish  assured  the  bridal  pair,  in  an  au-'i'.ie 
whisper,  that  she  liad  never  seen  a  sii'f.eter  wedding;  and  her 
mother,  a  stout,  homely  Kllli!  body,  coni'inned  the  opinion 
will),  ';  Yes,  you  both  did  beautifully  !  "  Then  the  marriage 
certificate  was  produced  and  signed,  and  the  company  par- 
took of  wine-  and  refreshments  to  strengthen  them  for  the, 
reception. 

Until  there  had  been  half  a  dozen  arrivals,  Mrs.  Blessing 
moved  about  restlessly,  and  her  eyes  wandered  to  the  front 
window.  Suddenly  three  or  four  carriages  came,  rattling 
together  up  the  street,  and  Joseph  heard  her  whisper  to  her 
husband  :  "  There  they  are  !  it  will  be  a  success  !  "  It  was 
not  long  before  the  little  room  was  uncomfortably  crowded, 
and  the  presentations  followed  so  rapidly  that  Joseph  soon 
became  bewildered.  Julia,  however,  knew  and  welcomed 
every  one  with  the  most  bewitching  grace,  being  rewarded 
with  kisses  by  the  gorgeous  young  ladies  and  compliments 
by  the  young  men  with  weak  mouths  and  retreating  chilis. 

In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  Mr.  Blessing,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  presented  "  Mr.  Collector  Twining'1  and  "Mr. 
Surveyor  Knob "  and  "  Mr.  Appraiser  Gerrish,"  all  of 
whom  greeted  Joseph  with  a  bland,  almost  affectionate,  cor- 
diality. The  door  of  the  dining-room  was  then  thrown 
open,  and  the  three  dignitaries  accompanied  the  bridal  pair 
to  the  table.  Two  servants  rapidly  whisked  the  champagne- 
bottles  from  a  cooling-tub  in  the  adjoining  closet,  and  Mr. 
Blessing  commenced  stirring  and  testing  a  luige  bowl  of 
punch.  Collector  Twining  made  a  neat  little  speech,  pro- 
posing the  health  of  bride  and  bridegroom,  with  a  pun  upon 
the  former's  name,  which  was  received  with  as  much  delight 
as  if  it  had  never  been  heard  before.  Therefore  Mr.  Sur- 
veyor Knob  repeated  it  in  giving  the  health  of  the  bride's 


1:20  josKi-rr  AKD  ins  FRIEND. 


parents.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  company  not:  having  dimin- 
ished, Mr.  Appraiser  (lerrish  improved  Hie  pun  in  a  third 
form,  in  proposing  "  the  Ladies."  Thou  31  r.  Blessing, 
although  Lis  feelings  overcame  him,  and  lie  was  obliged  to 
use  a  handkerchief  smelling  equally  of  i>en/ine  and  can  de 
cologne,  responded,  introducing  the  collector's  and  survey- 
or's names  with  an  ingenuity  which  was  accepted  as  the 
inspiration  of  genius.  His  peroration  Avas  especially  admired. 

"  On  this  happy  occasion,"  lie  said,  "  the  elements  of 
national  poAver  and  prosperity  are  represented.  My  son-in- 
laAv,  Mr.  Asten,  is  a  noble  specimen  of  the  agricultural 
population,  —  the  free  American  yeomanry;  my  daughter,  if 
I  may  be  allowed  to  say  it  in  the  presence  of  so  many 
bright  eyes  and  blooming  cheeks,  is  a  representative  child 
of  the  city,  which,  is  the  embodiment  of  the  nation's  action 
and  enterprise.  The  union  of  the  two  is  the  movement  of 
our  life.  The  city  gives  to  the  country  as  the  ocean  gives 
the  cloud  to  the  mountain-springs  :  the  country  gives  to  the 
city  as  the  streams  flow  back  to  the  ocean.  ["Admirable  !  " 
Mr.  Collector  Twining  exclaimed.]  Then  we  have,  as  our 
highest  honor,  the  representatives  of  the  political  system 
under  which  city  and  country  flourish  alike.  The  wings  of 
our  eagle  must  be  extended  over  this  fortunate  house  to- 
day, for  here  are  the  strong  Claws  which  seize  and  guard  its 
treasures  !  " 

The  health  of  the  Claws  was  drunk  enthusiastically.  Mr. 
Blessing  was  congratulated  on  his  eloquence  ;  the  yoxing 
gentlemen  begged  the  privilege  of  touching  their  glasses  to 
his,  and  every  touch  required  that  the  contents  be  replen- 
ished; so  that  the  bottom  of  the  punch-bowl  was  nearly 
reached  before  the  guests  departed. 

When  Joseph  came  down  in  his  travelling-dress,  he  found 


121 

the  diMv.-ing-room  empty  of  the  crowd;  but  leaves,  withered 
flowers,  crumbs  of  cake,  and  crumpled  curds  scattered  over 

the  carpet,  indicated  what  had  taken  place.      In  tlie   dhdn™- 
j.  i  £> 

room  3Ir.  Blessing,  v.-ith  his  cravr.t  loosened,  was  smoking  a 
cigar  at  the  open  window. 

''Come,  son-in-lav,- !  "  he  cried,  "take  another  glass  of 
punch  before  you  start." 

Joseph  declined,  on  the  plea  that  he  was  not  accustomed 
to  the  beverage. 

'"'  Xothincr  could  have  »oue  off  better !  "  said  !JIr.  Blessin". 

OO  O 

"  Tlie  collector  was  delighted:  by  the  by,  you're  to  go  to 
the  St.  Jerome,  when  you  get  to  Xew  York  this  evening. 
He  telegraphed  to  have  the  bridal-chamber  reserved  for 
you.  Tell  Julia :  she  won't  forget  it.  That  girl  has  a 
deuced  sharp  intellect :  if  you'll  be  guided  by  her  in  your 
operations — " 

"Pa,  what  are  you  saying  about  me?"  Julia  asked, 
hastily  entering  the  room. 

"  Only  that  you  have  a  deuced  sharp  intellect,  and 
to-day  proves  it.  Asten  is  one  of  us  now,  and  I  may  tell 
him  of  his  luck." 

He  winked  and  laughed  stupidly,  and  Joseph  under- 
stood and  obeyed  his  wife's  appealing  glance.  He  went 
to  his  mother-in-law  in  the  drawing-room. 

Julia  lightly  and  swiftly  shut  the  door.  "  Pa,"  she 
said,  in  a  strong,  angry  whisper ;  "  if  you  are  not  able 
to  talk  coherently,  you  must  keep  your  tongue  still.  What 
will  Joseph  think  of  me,  to  hear  you  ?  " 

"  What  he'll  think  anyhow,  in  a  little  while,"  he  dog- 
gedly replied.  "  Julia,  you  have  played  a  keen  game,  and 
played  it  well;  but  you  don't  know  much  of  men  yet. 
He'll  not  always  be  the  innocent,  white-nosed  lamb  he 


122  josKpir  A  xi>  in?  FKTKXD. 

is  now,  nibbling  the  posies  you  hold  out  to  him.  Wait  till 
he  asks  for  stronger  feed,  and  see  whether  he'll  fi.-llow  you  !  " 

She  was  looking  on  the  floor,  pale  mid  stern.  Suddenly 
one  of  her  gloves  hurst,  across  the  back  of  the  hand. 
"Pa,"  she  then  said,  "it's  very  cruel  to  say  such  things 
to  me,  now  when  I'm  leaving  you." 

"  So  it  is !  "  he  exclaimed,  tearfully  contrite ;  "  I  am 
a  wretch  !  They  flattered  my  speech  so  nmcli. — the  col- 
lector was  so  impressed  by  me, — and  said  so  many  pleasant 
things,  that— I  don't  feel  quite  steady.  Don't  forget 
the  St.  Jerome ;  the  bridal-chamber  is  ordered,  and  I'll 
see  that  Mumm  writes  a  good  account  for  the  '  Evening 
Mercury.'  I  wish  you  could  be  here  to  remember  my 
speech  for  me.  O,  I  shall  miss  yon  !  I  shall  miss  you  !  " 

With  these  words,  and  his  arm  lovingly  about  his 
daughter,  they  joined  the  family.  The  carriage  was  al- 
ready at  the  door,  and  the  coachman  was  busy  with 
the  travelling-trunks.  There  were  satchels,  and  little 
packages, — an  astonishing  number  it  seemed  to  Joseph, — 
to  be  gathered  together,  and  then  the  farewells  were  said. 

As  they  rolled  through  the  streets  towards  the  station, 
Julia  laid  her  head  upon  her  husband's  shoulder,  drew 
a  long,  deep  breath,  and  said,  "  Now  all  our  obligations 
to  society  are  fulfilled,  and  we  can  rest  awhile.  For 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  am  a  free  woman, — and  you 
have  liberated  me !  " 

He  answered  her  in  glad  and  tender  words ;  he  was 
equally  grateful  that  the  exciting  day  was  over.  But, 
as  they  sped  away  from  the  city  through  the  mellow 
October  landscapes,  Philip's  earnest,  dark  gray  eyes,  warm, 
with  more  than  brotherly  love,  haunted  his  memory, 
and  he  knew  that  Philip's  faithful  thoughts  followed  him. 


JOsEPJI    AXD    HIS    FIIJLXD.  123 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CLOUDS. 

THERE  are  some  days  when  the  sun  comes  slowly  up, 
filling  the  vapory  air  with  difl'used  light,  in  advance  of 
his  coming;  when  the  earth  grows  luminous  in  the  broad, 
breezeless  morning;  when  nearer  objects  shine  and  sparkle, 
and  the  distances  melt  into  dim  violet  and  gold ;  when 
the  vane  points  to  the  southwest,  and  the  blood  of  man 
feels  neither  heat  nor  cold,  but  only  the  freshness  of  that 
perfect  temperature  wherein  the  limits  of  the  body  are 
lost,  and  the  pulses  of  its  life  beat  in  all  the  life  of  the 
•world.  But  ere  long  the  haze,  instead  of  thinning  into 
blue,  gradually  thickens  into  gray ;  the  vane  creeps 
southward,  swinging  to  southeast  in  brief,  rising  flaws 
of  the  ail1 ;  the  horizon  darkens ;  the  enfranchised  life 
of  the  spirit  creeps  back  to  its  old  isolation,  shorn  of 
all  its  rash  delight,  and  already  foreboding  the  despond- 
ency which  comes  with  the  east  wind  and  the  chilly 
rains. 

Some  such  variation  of  the  atmospheric  influences  at- 
tended Joseph  Asten's  wedding-travel.  The  mellow,  ma-, 
gical  glory  of  his  new  life  diminished  day  by  day ;  the 
blue  of  his  sky  became  colder  and  grayer.  Yet  he  could 
not  say  that  his  wife  had  changed :  she  was  always  ready 
with  her  smiles,  her  tender  phrases,  her  longings  for 
quiet  and  rest,  and  simple,  natural  life,  away  from  the 
conventionalities  and  claims  of  Society.  But,  even  as, 


1.2-1  .TOPKPIT    AND    HIS    FlilKXD. 

looking  into  the  pale,  tawny-brown  of  her  oyos,  he  saw 
no  changing  depth  below  the  hard,  clear  surface,  so  it 
also  seemed  with  her  nature;  he  painfully  endeavored 
to  penetrate  beyond  expressions,  the  repetition  of  which 
it  was  hard  not  to  find  tiresome,  and  to  reach  some  spring 
of  character  or  feeling ;  yet  ho  found  nothing.  It  was 
useless  to  remember  that  he  had  been  content  Avith  those 
expressions  before  marriage  had  given  them  his  own  eager 
interpretation,  independent  of  her  will  and  knowledge ; 
that  his  duty  to  her  remained  the  same,  for  sho  had  not 
deceived  him. 

On  the  other  hand,  she  was  as  tender  and  affectionate 
as  he  could  desire.  Indeed,  he  would  often  have  preferred 
a  less  artless  manifestation  of  her  fondness ;  but  she 
playfully  insisted  on  his  claiming  the  best  quarters  at 
every  stopping-place,  on  the  ground  of  their  bridal  char- 
acter, and  was  sometimes  a  little  petiilant  when  she 
fancied  that  they  had  not  been  sufficiently  honored. 
Joseph  would  have  willingly  escaped  the  distinction, 
allowing  himself  to  be  confounded  with  the  prosaic  mul- 
titude, but  she  would  not  permit  him  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. 

"  The  newly  married  are  always  detected,"  she  would 
say,  "and  they  are  only  laughed  at  when  they  try  to 
seem  like  old  couples.  Why  not  be  frank  and  honest, 
and  meet  half-way  the  sympathy  which  I  am  sure  every- 
body has  for  us  ?  " 

To  this  he  could  make  no  reply,  except  that  it  was  not 
agreeable  to  exact  a  special  attention. 

"  But  it  is  our  right !  "  was  her  answer. 

In  every  railway-car  they  entered  she  contrived,  in  a 
short  time,  to  impress  the  nature  of  their  trip  upon  tho 


JOSEPH  A:\D  ui<  FI;II;:<D.  125 

other  travellers;  yet  it  was  done  wiili  such  apparent 
unconsciousness,  such  innocent,  impulsive  manifestations 
of  her  happiness  in  him,  that  he  could  not,  in  his  heart, 
charge  her  with  having  intentionally  brought  upon  him 
the  discomfort  of  being  curiouslv  observed.  He  could 
have  accustomed  himself  to  endure  the  latter,  had  it  been 
inevitable ;  the  suspicion  that  he  owed  it  to  her  made 
it  an  increasing  annoyance.  Yet,  when  the  day's  journey 
was  over,  and  they  were  resting  together  in  their  own 
private  apartment,  she  would  bring  a  stool  to  his  feet, 
lay  her  head  on  his  knee,  and  say  :  "  Xow  we  can  talk 
as  we  please, — there  are  none  watching  and  listening." 

At  such  times  he  was  puzzled  to  guess  whether  some 
relic  of  his  former  nervous  shyness  were  not  remaining, 
and  had  made  him  over-sensitive  to  her  ways.  The  doubt 
gave  him  an  additional  power  of  self-control ;  he  resolved 
to  be  more  slow  and  cautious  of  judgment,  and  observe 
men  and  women  more  carefully  than  he  had  been  wont  to 
do.  Julia  had  no  suspicion  of  what  was  passing  in  his 
mind:  she  took  it  for  granted  that  his  nature  was  still 
as  shallow  and  transparent  as  when  she  first  came  in 
contact  with  it. 

After  nearly  a  fortnight  this  flying  life  came  to  an  end. 
They  returned  to  the  city  for  a  day,  before  going  home 
to  the  farm.  The  Blessing  mansion  received  them  with 
a  hearty  welcome ;  yet,  in  spite  of  it,  a  depressing  at- 
mosphere seemed  to  fill  the  house.  Mrs.  Blessing  looked 
pinched  and  care-worn,  Clementina  discontented,  and 
Mr.  Blessing  as  melancholy  as  was  possible  to  so  bouy- 
ant  a  politician. 

"What's  the  matter  ?  I  hope  pa  hasn't  lost  his  place," 
Julia  remarked  in  an  undertone  to  her  mother. 


126  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS   FKIKXD. 

"  Lost  my  place  !  "  Mr.  Blessing  exclaimed  aloud  ;  "  I'd 
like  to  see  how  the  collection  of  customs  would  go  on  with- 
out me.  But  a  man  may  keep  his  place,  and  yet  lose  his 
house  and  home." 

Clementina  vanished,  Mrs.  Blessing  followed,  with  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  Julia  hastened  after  them, 
crying  :  "  Ma  !  dear  ma  !  " 

"  It's  only  on  their  account,"  said  Mr.  Blessing,  pointing 
after  them  and  speaking  to  Joseph.  "  A  plucky  man  never 
desponds,  sir;  but  women,  you'll  find,  are  upset  by  every 
reverse." 

"  May  I  ask  what  has  happened  ?  " 

"  A  delicate  regard  for  you,"  Mr.  Blessing  replied,  "  would 
counsel  me  to  conceal  it,  but  my  duty  as  your  father-in-law 
leaves  me  no  alternative.  Our  human  feelings  prompt  us  to 
show  only  the  bright  side  of  life  to  those  whom  we  love ; 
principle,  however,  — •  conscience,  commands  us  not  to  sup- 
press the  shadows.  I  am  but  one  out  of  the  many  millions 
of  victims  of  mistaken  judgment.  The  case  is  simply  this  ; 
I  will  omit  certain  legal  technicalities  touching  the  disposi- 
tion of  property,  which  may  not  be  familiar  to  you,  and  state 
the  facts  in  the  most  intelligible  form ;  securities  which  I 
placed  as  collaterals  for  the  loan  of  a  sum,  not  a  very  large 
amount,  have  been  very  unexpectedly  depreciated,  but  only 
temporarily  so,  as  all  the  market  knows.  If  I  am  forced  to 
sell  them  at  such  an  untoward  crisis,  I  lose  the  largest  part 
of  my  limited  means  ;  if  I  retain  them,  they  will  ultimately 
recover  their  full  value." 

"  Then  why  not  retain  them  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  The  sum  advanced  upon  them  must  be  repaid,  and  it  so 
happens — the  market  being  very  tight — that  every  one  of 
my  friends  is  short.  Of  coune,  where  their  own  paper  is 


on  '.lie  $t iv- ;.-!',  I  can  t  ask  them  to  float  mi.no  for  three  months 
loni^M',  which  is  all  tli.it  is  necessary.  A  good  indorsement 
is  the  extent  of  my  necessity;  for  any  one  who  is  familiar 
with  the  aspects  of  the  market  can  see  that  there  must  be  a 
great  rebound  before  three  months.1' 

"  If  it  were  not  a  very  large  amount,"  Joseph  began. 

"  Only  a  thousand  !    I  know  what  you  were  croinf  to  say 

*/  i/  O  O  */ 

it  is  perfectly  natural  :  I  appreciate  it,  because,  if  our  posi- 
tions were  reversed,  I  should  have  done  the  same  thing. 
But,  although  it  is  a  mere  form,  a  temporary  fiction,  which 
has  the  force  of  reality,  and,  therefore,  so  for  as  you  are  con- 
cerned, I  should  feel  entirely  easy,  yet  it  might  subject  me 
to  very  dishonoring  suspicions  !  It  might  be  said  that  I 
had  availed  myself  of  your  entrance  into  my  family  to  be- 
guile you  into  pecuniary  entanglements  ;  the  amount  might 
be  exaggerated,  the  circumstance  misrepresented, — no,  110  ! 
rather  than  that,  let  me  make  the  sacrifice  like  a  man  !  I'm 
no  longer  young,  it  is  true ;  but  the  feeling  that  I  stand  on 
principle  will  give  me  strength  to  work." 

"  On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Blessing,"  said  Joseph,  "  very  un- 
pleasant things  might  be  said  of  me,  if  I  should  permit  you  to 
suffer  so  serious  a  loss,  when  my  assistance  would  prevent  it." 

"  I  don't  deny  it.  You  have  made  a  two-horned  dilemma 
out  of  a  one- sided  embarrassment.  Would  that  I  had  kept 
the  secret  in  my  own  breast !  The  temptation  is  strong,  I 
confess,  for  the  mere  use  of  your  name  for  a  few  months  is 
all  I  should  reqxiire.  Either  the  securities  will  rise  to  their 
legitimate  value,  or  some  of  the  capitalists  with  whom  I 
have  dealings  will  be  in  a  position  to  accommodate  me.  I 
have  frequently  tided  over  similar  snags  and  sand-bars  in 
the  financial  current ;  they  are  familiar  even  to  the  most 
skilful  operators, — navigators,  I  might  say,  to  carry  out  the 


128 

figure, — and  this  is  an  instance  where  an  additional  inch  of 
water  will  lift  me  from  wreck  to  Hood-tide.  The  question 
is,  should  I  allow  what  I  feel  to  be  a  just  principle,  a  natural 
suggestion  of  delicacy,  to  intervene  between  my  necessity  and 
your  generous  proffer  of  assistance  ?  " 

"  Your  family — "  Joseph  began. 

"  I  know  !  I  know  !  "  Mr.  Blessing  cried,  leaning  his 
head  upon  his  hand.  "  There  is  my  vulnerable  point, — my 
heel  of  Achilles  !  There  would  be  no  alternative, — better 
sell  this  house  than  have  my  paper  dishonored  !  Then,  too, 
I  feel  that  this  is  a  turning-point  in  my  fortunes :  if  I  can 
squeeze  through  this  narrow  pass,  I  shall  find  a  smooth  road 
beyond.  It  is  not  merely  the  sum  which  is  at  stake,  but 
the  future  possibilities  into  which  it  expands.  Should  I 
crush  the  seed  while  it  is  germinating  ?  Should  I  tear  up 
the  young  tree,  with  an  opening  fruit-bud  on  every  twig  ? 
You  see  the  considerations  that  sway  me :  unless  you  with- 
draw your  most  generous  proffer,  what  can  I  do  but  yield 
and  accept  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  withdrawing  it,"  Joseph  answered, 
taking  his  words  literally  ;  "  I  made  the  offer  freely  and 
willingly.  If  my  indorsement  is  all  that  is  necessary  now,  I 
can  give  it  at  once." 

Mr.  Blessing  grasped  him  by  the  hand,  winked  hard  three 
or  four  times,  and  turned  away  his  head  without  speaking. 
Then  he  drew  a  large  leather  pocket-book  from  his  breast, 
opened  it,  and  produced  a  printed  promissory  note. 

"  We  will  make  it  payable  at  your  county  bank,"  said  he, 
"  because  your  name  is  known  there,  and  upon  acceptance — 
which  can  be  procured  in  two  days — the  money  will  be 
drawn  here.  Perhaps  we  had  better  sav  four  months,  in 
order  to  cover  all  contingencies." 


129 

lie  went  to  a  small  writing-dusk,  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  room,  and  tilled  the  blanks  in  the  note,  which  Joseph 
then  endorsed.  When  it  was  safely  lodged  in  his  breast- 
pocket, he  said  :  "  We  will  keep  this  entirely  to  ourselves. 
My  wife,  let  mo  whisper  to  you,  is  very  proud  and  sensitive, 
although  the  De  1'Hotels  (Doolittles  now)  were  never  <piiie 
the  equals  of  the  De  Belsains  ;  but  women  see  matters  in  a 
different  light.  They  can't  understand  the  accommodation 
of  a  name,  but  fancy  that  it  implies  a  kind  of  humiliation,  as 
if  one  were  soliciting  charity." 

He  laughed  and  rubbed  his  hands.  "  I  shall  soon  be  in  a 
position,"  he  said,  "  to  render  you  a  favor  in  returm.  My 
long  experience,  and,  I  may  add,  my  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  financial  field,  enables  me  to  foresee  many  splendid  op- 
portunities. There  are,  just  now,  some  movements  which 
are  not  yet  perceptible  on  the  surface.  Mark  my  words  !  we 
shall  shortly  have  a  new  excitement,  and  a  cool,  well-sea- 
soned head  is  a  fortune  at  such  times." 

"  In  the  country,"  Joseph  replied,  "  we  only  learn 
enough  to  pay  off  our  debts  and  invest  cur  earnings.  We 
are  in  the  habit  of  moving  slowly  and  cautiously.  Perhaps 
we  miss  opportunities  ;  but  if  we  don't  see  them,  we  are 
just  as  contented  as  if  they  had  not  been.  ^1  have  enough 
for  comfort,  and  try  to  be  satisfied." 

"  Inherited  ideas !  They  belong  to  the  community  in 
which  you  live.  Are  you  satisfied  with  your  neighbors'  ways 
of  living  and  thinking  ?  I  do  not  mean  to  disparage  them, 
but  have  you  no  desire  to  rise  above  their  level  ?  Money, — 
as  I  once  said  at  a  dinner  given  to  a  distinguished  railroad 
man, — money  is  the  engine  which  draws  individuals  up  the. 
steepest  grades  of  society;  it  is  the  lubricating  oil  which 
makes  the  truck  of  life  run  easy;  it  is  the  safety -break 


130  JOSKI'H    AND    HIS    FRIKXD. 

•which  renders  collision  and  wreck  impossible  !  I  have  long 
been  accustomed  to  consider  it  in  the  light  of  power,  not  of 
property,  and  I  classify  men  according  as  they  take  one  or 
the  other  view.  The  latter  are  misers  ;  but  the  former,  sir, 
are  philosophers  !  " 

Joseph  scarcely  knew  how  to  answer  this  burst  of  eloquence. 
But  there  was  no  necessity  for  it ;  the  ladies  entered  the 
room  at  that  moment,  each  one,  in  her  own  way,  swiftly 
scrutinizing  the  two  gentlemen.  Mrs.  Blessing's  face  lost  its 
woe-worn  expression,  while  a  gleam  of  malicious  satisfaction 
passed  over  Clementina's. 

The  next  day,  on  their  journey  to  the  country,  Julia  sud- 
denly said,  "  I  am  sure,  Joseph,  that  pa  made  use  of  your 
generosity  ;  pray  don't  deny  it !  " 

There  was  the  faintest  trace  of  hardness  in  her  voice, 
which  he  interpreted  as  indicating  dissatisfaction  with  his 
failure  to  confide  the  matter  to  her. 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  denying  anything,  Julia,"  he 
answered.  "  I  was  not  called  upon  to  exercise  generosity  ; 
it  was  simply  what  your  father  would  term  an  '  accommoda- 
tion.' " 

"  I  understand.     How  much  ?  " 

"  An  endorsement  of  his  note  for  a  thousand  dollars,  which 
is  little,  when  it  will  prevent  him  from  losing  valuable 
securities." 

Julia  was  silent  for  at  least  ten  minutes ;  then,  turning 
towards  him  with  a  sternness  which  she  vainly  endeavored  to 
conceal  under  a  "  wreathed  smile,"  she  said :  "  In  future, 
Joseph,  I  hope  you  will  always  consult  me  in  any  pecuniar/ 
venture.  I  may  not  know  much  about  such  matters,  but  it 
is  my  duty  to  learn.  I  have  been  obliged  to  hear  a  great 
deal  of  financial  talk  from  pa  and  his  friends,  and  could  not 


131 


you  know. 

His  own  words!  Al'i.T  all,  what  she  said  was  just 
and  right,  and  lie  could  not  explain  to  himself  why  he 
should  fuel  annoyed.  Perhaps  he  mi.-;sed  a  frank  expres- 
sion of  delight  iu  the  assistance  he  had  so  promptly 
given  ;  but  why  should  he  suspect  that  it  was  unwelcome 
to  her?  lie  tried  to  banish  the  feeling,  to  hide  it  under 
self-reproach  and  shame,  but  it  clung  to  him  most  uncom- 
fortably. 

Nevertheless,  he  forgot  everything  in  the  pleasure  of  the 
homeward  drive  from  the  station.  The  sadness  of  late 
autumn  lay  upon  the  fields,  but  spring  already  said,  "  I  am 
coming  !  "  in  the  yoxing  wheat ;  the  houses  looked  warm  and 
cosey  behind  their  sheltering  fir-trees ;  cattle  still  grazed  on 
the  meadows,  and  the  corn  was  not  yet  deserted  by  the 
buskers.  The  sun  gave  a  bright  edge  to  the  sombre  colors 
of  the  landscape,  and  to  Joseph's  eyes  it  was  beautiful  as 
never  before.  Julia  leaned  back  in  the  carriage,  and  com- 
plained of  the  cold  wind. 

"  There  !  "  cried  Joseph,  as  a  view  of  the  valley  opened 
below  them,  with  the  stream  flashing  like  steel  between  the 
leafless  sycamores, — "  there  is  home-land  !  Do  you  know 
where  to  look  for  our  house  ?  " 

Julia  made  an  effort,  leaned  forward,  smiled,  and  pointed 
silently  across  the  shoulder  of  a  hill  to  the  eastward.  "  You 
surely  didn't  suppose  I  could  forget,"  she  murmured. 

Rachel  Miller  awaited  them  at  the  gate,  and  Julia  had  no 
sooner  alighted  than  she  flung  herself  into  her  arms.  "  Dear 
Aunt  Rachel !  "  she  cried  :  "  you  must  now  take  my  mother's 
place  ;  I  have  so  much  to  learn  from  you !  It  is  doubly  a 


132  JOSEJ'Ii    A.N1>    JUS    I'Uii:M>. 

Lome  since  you   arc  here.      1  feel  tluit  \vo  shall  all  be  happy 
together!" 

Then  there  were  kisses,  of  which  Joseph  received  his 
share,  and  the  first  evening  lapsed  away  in  perfect  har- 
mony. Everything  was  delightful :  the  room,  the  furniture, 
the  meal,  even  the  roar  of  the  wind  in  the  dusky  trees. 
While  Julia  lay  in  the  cushioned  rocking-chair,  Kachel 
gave  her  nephew  an  account  of  all  that  had  been  done  on  the 
farm  ;  but  Joseph  only  answered  her  from  the  surface  of  his 
mind.  Under  the  current  of  his  talk  ran  a  graver  thought, 
which  said  :  "  You  wanted  independence  and  a  chance  of 
growth  for  your  life  ;  you  fancied  they  would  come  in  this 
form.  Lo,  now  !  here  are  the  conditions  which  you  desired 
to  establish  ;  from  this  hour  begins  the  new  life  of  which 
you  dreamed.  Whether  you  have  been  wise  or  rash,  you 
can  change  nothing.  You  are  limited,  as  before,  though 
within  a  different  circle.  You  may  pace  it  to  its  fullest  ex- 
tent, but  all  the  lessons  you  have  yet  learned  require  you  to 
be  satisfied  within  it." 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FlilEXD.  133 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  autumn  lapsed  into  winter,  and  the  household  on  the 
Asteii  farm  began  to  share  the  isolation  of  the  season.  There 
had  been  friendly  visits  from  all  the  nearest  neighbors  and 
friends,  followed  by  return  visits,  arid  invitations  which  Julia 
willingly  accepted.  She  was  very  amiable,  and  took  pains  to 
confirm  the  favorable  impression  which  she  knew  she  had  made 
in  the  summer.  Everybody  remarked  how  she  had  improved 
in  appearance,  how  round  and  soft  her  neck  and  shoulders, 
how  bright  and  fresh  her  complexion.  She  thanked  them, 
with  many  grateful  expressions  to  which  they  were  not 
accustomed,  for  their  friendly  reception,  which  she  looked 
upon  as  an  adoption  into  their  society ;  but  at  home,  after- 
wards, she  indulged  in  criticisms  of  their  manners  and  habits 
which  were  not  always  friendly.  Although  these  were  given 
in  a  light,  playful  tone,  and  it  was  sometimes  impossible  not 
to  be  amused,  Rachel  Miller  always  felt  uncomfortable  when 
she  heard  them. 

Then  came  quiet,  lonely  days,  and  Julia,  weary  of  her  idle 
life,  undertook  to  master  the  details  of  the  housekeeping. 
She  went  from  garret  to  cellar vinspecting  every  article  in 
closet  and  pantry,  wondering  much,  censuring  occasionally, 
and  only  praising  a  little  when  she  found  that  Rachel  was 
growing  tired  and  irritable.  Although  she  made  no  material 
changes,  it  was  soon  evident  that  she  had  very  stubborn 
views  of  her  own  upon  many  points,  and  possessed  a  marked 


134  JOSI;I>H  AN])  ii is  run-;:,*!). 

tendency  for  wliat  the  country  people  call  "nearness." 
Little  by  little  she  diniinislie'l  the  bountiful,  free-handed 
manner  of  provision  which  had  been  the  habit  of  the  house. 
One  could  not  say  that  anything  needful  was  lacking,  and 
Rachel  would  hardly  have  been  dissatisfied,  had  she  not  felt 
that  the  innovation  was  an  indirect  blame. 

In  some  directions  Julia  seemed  the  reverse  of  "  near," 
persuading  Joseph  into  expenditures  which  the  people  con- 
sidered very  extravagant.  When  the  snow  came,  his  new 
and  elegant  sleigh,  with  the  wolf-skin  robe,  the  silver- 
mounted  harness,  and  the  silver-sounding  bells,  was  the  envy 
of  all  the  young  men,  and  an  abomination  to  the  old.  It 
was  a  splendor  which  he  could  easily  afford,  and  he  did  not 
grudge  her  the  pleasure ;  yet  it  seemed  to  change  his 
relation  to  the  neighbors,  and  some  of  them  were  very 
free  in  hinting  that  they  felt  it  so.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  explain  why  they  should  resent  this  or  any  other  slight 
departure  from  their  fashions,  but  such  had  always  been 
their  custom. 

In  a  few  days  the  snow  vanished  and  a  tiresome  season  of 
rain  and  thaw  succeeded.  ,  The  south-eastern  winds,  blowing 
from  the  Atlantic  across  the  intervening  lowlands,  rolled 
interminable  gray  masses  of  fog  over  the  hills  and  blurred 
the  scenery  of  the  valley  ;  dripping  trees,  soaked  meadows, 
and  sodden  leaves  were  the  only  objects,  that  detached  them- 
selves from  the  general  void,  and  became  in  turn  visible  to 
those  who  travelled  the  deep,  quaking  roads.  The  social 
intercourse  of  the  neighborhood  ceased  perforce,  though  the 
need  of  it  were  never  so  great :  what  little  of  the  main  high- 
way down  the  valley  was  visible  from  the  windows  appeared 
to  be  deserted. 

Julia,   having    exhausted    the   resources   of    the   house, 


JOSEPH    AXD    II ir,    FIUKXD.  1  ,'15 

insisted  on  acquainting  herself  with  tho  barn  and  everything' 
thereto  belonging.  She  laughingly  asserted  that  her  educa- 
tion as  a  farmer's  wife  was  still  very  incomplete  ;  she  must 
know  the  amount  of  the  crops,  the  price  of  grain,  the  value 
of  the  stock,  the  manner  of  work,  and  whatever  else  was 
necessary  to  her  position.  Although  she  made  many  pretty 
blunders,  it  was  evident  that  her  apprehension  was  unu- 
sually quick,  and  that  whatever  she  acquired  was  fixed  in 
her  mind  as  if  for  some  possible  future  use.  She  never 
wearied  of  the  most  trivial  details,  while  Joseph,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  often  have  willingly  shortened  his  les- 
sons. His  mind  was  singularly  disturbed  between  the 
desire  to  be  gratified  by  her  curiosity,  and  the  fact  that  its 
eager  and  persistent  character  made  him  uncomfortable. 

When  an  innocent,  confiding  nature  begins  to  suspect 
that  its  confidence  has  been  misplaced,  the  first  result  is  a 
preternatural  stubbornness  to  admit  the  truth.  The  clearest 
impressions  are  resisted,  or  half-consciously  misinterpreted, 
with  the  last  force  of  an  illusion  which  already  foresees  its 
own  overthrow.  Joseph  eagerly  clung  to  every  look  and 
word  and  action  which  confirmed  his  sliding  faith  in  his 
wife's  sweet  and  simple  character,  and  repelled — though  a 
deeper  instinct  told  him  that  a  day  would  come  when  it 
must  be  admitted — the  evidence  of  her  coldness  and  selfish- 
ness. Yet,  even  while  almost  fiercely  asserting  to  his  own 
heart  that  he  had  every  reason  to  be  happy,  he  was  con- 
sumed with  a  secret  fever  of  unrest,  doubt,  and  dread. 

The  horns  of  the  growing  moon  were  still  turned  down- 
wards, and  cold,  dreary  rains  were  poured  upon  the  land. 
Julia's  patience,  in  such  straits,  was  wonderful,  if  the  truth 
had  been  known,  but  she  saw  that  some  change  was  necessary 
for  both  of  them.  She  therefore  proposed,  not  what  she 


].'5G  JOSK1MI    AND    HIS    FJUKM). 

most  dr:-iml,  but  what  lior  circumstances  prescribed, — a 
visit  from  lier  sister  Clementina.  Joseph  fuuml  tlie  request 
natural  enough  :  it  was  an  infliction,  but  one  which  ho  had 
anticipated;  and  after  the  time  had  been  arranged  by  letter, 
he  drove  to  the  station  to  meet  the  westward  train  from 
the  city. 

Clementina  stepped  upon  the  platform,  so  cloaked  and 
hooded  that  he  only  recognized  her  by  the  deliberate  grace 
of  her  movements.  She  extended  her  hand,  giving  his  a 
cordial  pressure,  which  was  explained  by  the  brass  baggage- 
checks  thus  transferred  to  his  charge. 

"  I  will  wait  in  the  ladies'  room,"  was  all  she  said. 

At  the  same  moment  Joseph's  arm  was  grasped. 

"  What  a  lucky  chance  !  "  exclaimed  Philip :  then,  sud- 
denly pausing  in  his  greeting,  he  lifted  his  hat  and  bowod  to 
Clementina,  who  nodded  slightly  as  she  passed  into  the 
room. 

"  Let  me  look  at  you  !  "  Philip  resumed,  laying  his  h-inds 
on  Joseph's  shoulders.  Their  eyes  met  and  lingered,  and 
Joseph  felt  the  blood  rise  to  his  face  as  Philip's  gaze  sank 
more  deeply  into  his  heart  and  seemed  to  fathom  its  hidden 
trouble ;  but  presently  Philip  smiled  and  said :  "I  scarcely 
knew,  until  this  moment,  that  I  had  missed  you  so  much, 
Joseph  ! " 

"  Have  you  come  to  stay  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

{{ I  think  so.  The  branch  railway  down  the  valley,  which 
you  know  was  projected,  is  to  be  built  immediately ;  but 
there  are  other  reasons  why  the  furnaces  should  be  in  blast. 
If  it  is  possible,  the  work — and  my  settlement  with  it — will 
begin  without  any  further  delay.  Is  she  your  first  family 
visit  ?  " 

He  pointed  towards  the  station. 


137 

"  She  will  bo  with  us  a  fortnight;  but  you  will  come, 
Philip?" 

"  To  be  sure  !  "  Philip  exclaimed.  "I  duly  saw  her  face 
indistinctly  through  the  veil,  but  her  nod  said  to  me,  '  A 
nearer  approach  is  not  objectionable.'  Certainlv,  Miss 
Blessing;  but  with  all  the  conventional  forms,  if  you  please  !  " 

There  was  something  of  scorn  and  bitterness  in  the  laugh 
which  accompanied  these  words,  and  Joseph  looked  at  him 
with  a  puzzled  air. 

"  You  may  as  well  know  now,"  Philip  whispered,  "  that 
when  I  was  a  spoony  youth  of  twenty,  I  very  nearly  imagined 
myself  in  love  with  Miss  Clementina  Blessing,  and  she  en- 
couraged my  greenness  until  it  spread  as  fast  as  a  bamboo  or 
a  gourd-vine.  Of  course,  I've  long  since  congratulated  my- 
self that  she  cut  me  up,  root  and  branch,  when  our  family 
fortune  was  lost.  The  awkwardness  of  our  intercourse  is  all 
on  her  side.  Can  she  still  have  faith  in  her  charms  and  my 
youth,  I  wonder  ?  Ye  gods  !  that  would  be  a  lovely  con- 
clusion of  the  comedy  !  " 

Joseph  could  only  join  in  the.  laugh  as  they  parted. 
There  was  no  time  to  reflect  tipon  what  had  been  said. 
Clementina,  nevertheless,  assumed  a  new  interest  in  his 
eyes ;  and  as  he  drove  her  towards  the  farm,  he  could  not 
avoid  connecting  her  with  Philip  in  his  thoughts.  She, 
too,  was  evidently  preoccupied  with  the  meeting,  for  Philip's 
name  soon  floated  to  the  surface  of  their  conversation. 

"  I  expect  a  visit  from  him  soon,"  said  Joseph.  As  she 
was  silent,  he  ventured  to  add :  "  You  have  no  objections  to 
meeting  with  him,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Held  is  still  a  gentleman,  I  believe,"  Clementina 
replied,  and  then  changed  the  subject  of  conversation. 

Julia  flew  at  her  sister  with  open  arms,  and  showered  on 


138  JOSKI'II    AXD    HIS   TJilEXD. 

her  a  profusion  of  kisses,  all  of  which  wore  received  with 
perfect  serenity,  Clementina  merely  saying,  as  soon  as  she 
could  get  breath :  "  Dear  me,  Julia,  I  scarcely  recognize 
you  !  You  are  already  so  countrified  !  " 

liachel  Miller,  although  a  woman,  and  notwithstanding 
her  recent  experience,  found  herself  greatly  bewildered  by 
this  new  apparition.  Clementina's  slow,  deliberate  move- 
ments and  her  even-toned,  musical  utterance  impressed  her 
with  a  certain  respect ;  yet  the  qualities  of  character  they 
suggested  never  manifested  themselves.  On  the  contrary, 
the  same  words,  in  any  other  mouth,  would  have  often  ex- 
pressed malice  or  heartlessness.  Sometimes  she  heard  her 
own  homely  phrases  repeated,  as  if  by  the  most  unconscious 
purposeless  imitation,  and  had  Julia  either  smiled  or  appeared 
annoyed  her  suspicions  might  have  been  excited ;  as  it  was, 
she  was  constantly  and  sorely  puzzled. 

Once  only,  and  for  a  moment,  the  two  masks  were  slightly 
lifted.  At  dinner,  Clementina,  who  had  turned  the  conver- 
sation upon  the  subject  of  birthdays,  suddenly  said  to  Jo- 
seph :  "  By  the  way,  Mr.  Asten,  has  Julia  told  you  her 
age?" 

Julia  gave  a  little  start,  but  presently  looked  up,  with  an 
expression  meant  to  be  artless. 

"  I  knew  it  before  we  were  married,"  Joseph  quietly 
answered. 

Clementina  bit  her  lip.  Julia,  concealing  her  surprise, 
flashed  a  triumphant  glance  at  her  sister,  then  a  tender  one 
at  Joseph,  and  said:  "We  will  both  let  the  old  birthdays 
go;  we  will  only  have  one  and  the  same  anniversary  from 
this  time  on  !  " 

Joseph  felt,  through  some  natural  magnetism  of  his  nature 
rather  than  from  anv  perceptible  evidence,  that  Clementina 


was  sharply  and  curiously  watching  the  relation  betwi-i-u 
himself  and  his  wife.  He  had  no  fear  of  her  detecting  mis- 
givings which  were  not  yet  acknowledged  to  himself,  but 
was  instinctively  on  his  guard  in  her  presence. 

It  was  not  many  days  before  Philip  called.  Julia  received 
him  cordially,  as  the  friend  of  her  husband,  while  Clemen- 
tina bowed  with  an  impassive  face,  without  rising  from  her 
seat.  Philip,  however,  crossed  the  room  and  gave  her  his 
hand,  saying  cheerily :  '•'  AVe  used  to  be  old  friends,  Miss 
Blessing.  You  have  not  forgotten  me  ?  " 

O  O 

"  AVe  cannot  forget  when  we  have  been  asked  to  do  so," 
she  warbled. 

Philip  took  a  chair.  "  Eight  years  !  "  he  said  :  "  I  am  the 
only  one  who  has  changed  in  that  time." 

Julia  looked  at  her  sister,  but  the  latter  was  apparently 
absorbed  in  comparing  some  zephyr  tints. 

"  The  whirligig  of  time  !  "  he  exclaimed  :  "  who  can  fore- 
see anything  ?  Then  I  was  an  ignorant,  petted  young 
aristocrat, —  an  expectant  heir;  now  behold  me,  working 
among  miners  and  puddlers  and  forgemen  !  It's  a  rough 
but  wholesome  change.  Would  you  believe  it,  Mrs.  Asten, 
I've  forgotten  the  mazurka  !  " 

"  I  wish  to  forget  it,"  Julia  replied  :  "  the  spring-house  is 
as  important  to  me  as  the  furnace  to  you." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Hopetons  lately  ?  "  Clementina  asked. 

Joseph  saw  a  shade  pass  over  Philip's  face,  and  he  seemed 
to  hesitate  a  moment  before  answering :  "  I  hear  they  will 
be  neighbors  of  mine  next  summer.  Mr.  Hopeton  is  inter- 
ested in  the  new  branch  down  the  valley,  and  has  purchased 
the  old  Calvert  property  for  a  country  residence." 

"  Indeed  ?     Then  you  will  often  see  them." 

"  I  hope  so  :  they  are  very  agreeable  people.     But  I  shall 


JOSEPH    A2S'D    HIS    FKIEXD. 

also  have  my  own  little  household  :  my  sister  will  probably 
join  me." 

"  Xot  Madeline  I  "  exclaimed  Julia. 

"  Madeline,"  Philip  answered.  "  It  has  long  been 
her  wish,  as  well  as  mine.  You  know  the  little  cot- 
tage on  the  knoll,  at  Coventry,  Joseph  !  I  have  taken  it 
for  a  year." 

"  There  will  be  quite  a  city  society,"  murmured  Clemen- 
tina, in  her  sweetest  tones.  "  You  will  need  110  commisera- 
tion, Julia.  Unless,  indeed,  the  country  people  succeed  in 
changing  you  all  into  their  own  likeness.  Mrs.  Hopeton 
will  certainly  create  a  sensation.  I  am  told  that  she  is  very 
extravagant,  Mr.  Held  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  seen  her  husband's  bank  account,"  said 
Philip,  dryly. 

He  rose  presently,  and  Joseph  accompanied  him  to  the 
lane.  Philip,  with  the  bridle-rein  over  his  arm,  delayed  to 
mount  his  horse,  while  the  mechanical  commonplaces  of 
speech,  which,  somehow,  always  absurdly  come  to  the  lips 
when  graver  interests  have  possession  of  the  heart,  were 
exchanged  by  the  two.  Joseph  felt,  rather  than  saw,  that 
Philip  was  troubled.  Presently  the  latter  said :  "  Some- 
thing is  coming  over  both  of  us, — not  between  us.  I  thought 
I  should-  tell  you  a  little  more,  but  perhaps  it  is  too  soon. 
If  I  guess  rightly,  neither  of  us  is  ready.  Only  this,  Joseph, 
let  us  each  think  of  the  other  as  a  help  and  a  snpport !  " 

"  I  do,  Philip  !  "  Joseph  answered.  "  I  see  there  is  some 
influence  at  work  which  I  do  not  understand,  but  I  am 
not  impatient  to  know  what  it  is.  As  for  myself,  I  seem 
to  know  nothing  at  all ;  but  you  can  judge, — you  see  all 
there  is." 

Even  as  he  pronounced  these  words  Joseph  felt  that  they 


JOSKni    AND    TTIS    FIUKNT).  141 

were  not  strictly  sincere,  and  almost  expected  to  find  an  ex- 
pression of  reproof  in  Philip's  eyes.  But  no:  they  softened 
nntil  he  only  saw  a  pitying  tenderness.  Then  he  knew  that 
the  doubts  which  he  had  resisted  with  all  the  force  of  his 
nature  were  clearly  revealed  to  Philip's  mind. 

They  shook  hands,  and  parted  in  silence  ;  and  Joseph,  as 
he  looked  up  to  the  gray  blank  of  heaven,  asked  himself: 
"  Is  this  all  ?  Has  my  life  already  taken  the  permanent 
imprint  of  its  future  ?  " 


14:2  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEND 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE     AMARANTH. 

CLEMENTINA  returned  to  the  city  without  having  made 
any  very  satisfactory  discovery.  Her  parting  was  there- 
fore conventionally  tender:  she  even  thanked  Joseph  for 
his  hospitality,  and  endeavored  to  throw  a  little  natural 
emphasis  into  her  words  as  she  expressed  the  hope  of 
being  allowed  to  renew  her  visit  in  the  summer. 

During  her  stay  it  seemed  to  Joseph  that  the  early  hai-- 
mony  of  his  household  had  been  restored.  Julia's  manner 
had  been  so  gentle  and  amiable,  that,  on  looking  back,  he 
was  inclined  to  believe  that  the  loneliness  of  her  new  life  was 
alone  responsible  for  any  change.  But  after  Clementina's 
departure  his  doubts  were  reawakened  in  a  more  threatening 
form.  He  could  not  guess,  as  yet,  the  terrible  chafing  of  a 
smiling  mask  ;  of  a  restraint  which  must  not  only  conceal 
itself,  but  counterfeit  its  opposite  ;  of  the  assumption  by  a 
narrow,  cold,  and  selfish  nature  of  virtues  which  it  secretly 
despises.  He  could  not  have  foreseen  that  the  gentleness, 
which  had  nearly  revived  his  faith  in  her,  would  so  sud- 
denly disappear.  But  it  was  gone,  like  a  glimpse  of  the 
sun  through  the  winter  fog.  The  hard,  watchful  expression 
came  back  to  Julia's  face ;  the  lowered  eyelids  no  longer 
gave  a  fictitious  depth  to  her  shallow,  tawny  pupils ;  the 
soft  roundness  of  her  voice  took  on  a  frequent  harshness, 
and  the  desire  of  asserting  her  own  will  in  all  things 
betrayed  itself  through  her  affected  habits  of  yielding  and 
seeking  counsel. 


113 

She  continued  her  plan  of  making  herself  acquainted  with 
all  the  details  of  the  farm  business.  "\\  hen  the  roads  began 
to  improve,  in  the  early  spring,  she  insisted  in  driving  to  the 
village  alone,  and  Joseph  soon  found  that  she  made  good  use 
of  these  journeys  in  extending  her  knowledge  of  the  social 
and  pecuniary  standing  of  all  the  neighboring  families.  She 
talked  with  farmers,  mechanics,  and  drovers ;  became  famil- 
iar with  the  fluctuations  in  the  prices  of  grain  and  cattle; 
learned  to  a  penny  the  wages  paid  for  every  form  of  service ; 
and  thus  felt,  from  week  to  week,  the  ground  growing  more 
secure  under  her  feet. 

Joseph  was  not  surprised  to  see  that  his  aunt's  participa- 
tion in  the  direction  of  the  household  gradually  diminished. 
Indeed,  he  scarcely  noticed  the  circumstance  at  all,  but  he 
was  at  last  forced  to  remark  her  increasing  silence  and  the 
trouble  of  her  face.  To  all  appearance  the  domestic  har- 
mony was  perfect,  and  if  Rachel  Miller  felt  some  natural 
regret  at  being  obliged  to  divide  her  sway,  it  was  a  matter, 
he  thought,  wherein  he  had  best  not  interfere.  One  day, 
however,  she  surprised  him  by  the  request : — 

"Joseph,  can  you  take  or  send  me  to  Magnolia  to-mor- 
row?" 

"  Certainly,  Aunt !  "  he  replied.  "  I  suppose  you  want 
to  visit  Cousin  Phebe;  you  have  not  seen  her  since  last 
summer." 

"It  was  that, — and  something  more."  She  paused  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  added,  more  firmly :  "  She  has  always  wished 
that  I  should  make  my  home  with  her,  but  I  couldn't  think 
of  any  change  so  long  as  I  was  needed  here.  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  am  not  really  needed  now." 

"  Why,  Aunt  Rachel ! "  Joseph  exclaimed,  "  I  meant  this 
to  be  your  home  always,  as  much  as  mine  !  Of  course  you 


14-4  J05KPII    AXD    HIS    FRIEND. 

are  needed, — not  to  do  all  that  you  have  done  heretofore, 
but  as  a  part  of  the  family.  It  is  your  right." 

"I  understand  all  that,  Joseph.  But  I've  heard  it  said 
that  a  young  wife  should  learn  to  see  to  every  tiling  herself, 
and  Julia,  I'm  sure,  doesn't  need  either  my  help  or  my  advice." 

Joseph's  face  became  very  grave.  "  Has  she — has  she — ?  " 
he  stammered. 

"ISTo,"  said  Rachel,  "she  has  not  said  it — in  words.  Dif- 
ferent persons  have  different  ways.  She  is  quick,  O  very 
quick! — and  capable.  You  know  I  could  never  sit  idly  by, 
and  look  on ;  and  it's  hard  to  be  directed.  I  seem  to  belong 
to  the  place  and  everything  connected  with  it ;  yet  there's 
times  when  what  a  body  ought  to  do  is  plain." 

In  endeavoring  to  steer  a  middle  course  between  her  con- 
science and  her  tender  regard  for  her  nephew's  feelings  Rachel 
only  confused  and  troubled  him.  Her  words  conveyed  some- 
thing of  the  truth  which  she  sought  to  hide  under  them. 
She  was  both  angered  and  humiliated  ;  the  resistance  with 
•which  she  had  attempted  to  meet  Julia's  domestic  innova- 
tions was  no  match  for  the  latter's  tactics ;  it  had  gone  down 
like  a  barrier  of  reeds  and  been  contemptuously  trampled 
under  foot.  She  saw  herself  limited,  opposed,  and  finally 
set  aside  by  a  cheerful  dexterity  of  management  which 
evaded  her  grasp  whenever  she  tried  to  resent  it.  Definite 
acts,  whereon  to  base  her  indignatioli,  seemed  to  slip  from 
her  memory,  but  the  atmosphere  of  the  house  became  fatal 
to  her.  She  felt  this  while  she  spoke,  and  felt  also  that 
Joseph  must  be  spared. 

"Aunt  Rachel,"  said  he,  "I  know  that  Julia  is  very  anx- 
ious to  learn  everything  which  she  thinks  belongs  to  her 
place, — perhaps  a  little  more  than  is  really  necessary.  She's 
an  enthusiastic  nature,  you  know.  Maybe  you  are  not  fully 


115 


acquainted  yet ;  maybe  you  have  misunderstood  her  in  some, 
tilings  :  1  would  like  to  think  so.'' 

"It  i^  true  that  we  are  dill' 'rent,  Joseph, — very  different. 
I  don't  say,  therefor?,  that  I'm  always  right.  It's  likely, 
indeed,  that  any  voting  wife  and  any  old  housekeeper  like 
myself  would  have  their  various  notions.  But  where,  there 
can  be  onlv  one  head,  it's  the  wife's  place  to  be  that  head. 
Julia  has  not  asked  it  of  me,  but  she  has  the  right.  I  can't 
say,  also,  that  I  don't  need  a  little  rest  and  change,  and  there 
seems  to  be  some  call  on  me  to  oblige  Ph<?be.  Look  at  the 
matter  in  the  true  light,''  she  continued,  seeing  that  Joseph 
remained  silent,  "and  you  must  feel  that  it's  only  natural." 

"I  hope  so,''  ha  said  at  last,  repressing  a  sigh ;  "  all  things 
are  changing." 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  "  Julia  asked,  that  evening,  when  he 
had  communicated  to  her  his  aunt's  resolution  ;  "  it  would 
be  so  delightful  if  she  would  stay,  and  yet  I  have  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  she  would  leave  us — for  a  little  while  only,  I 
hope.  Dear,  good  Annt  Rachel  !  I  couldn't  help  seeing  how 
hard  it  was  for  her  to  allow  the  least  change  in  the  order  of 
housekeeping.  She  would  be  perfectly  happy  if  I  would  sit 
still  all  day  and  let  her  tire  herself  to  death  ;  but  how  can  I 
do  that,  Joseph  ?  And  no  two  women  have  exactly  the  same 
ways  and  habits.  I've  tried  to  make  everything  pleasant 
for  her  :  if  she  would  only  leave  many  little  matters  entirely 
to  me,  or  at  least  not  think  of  them, — but  I  fear  she  cannot. 
She  manages  to  see  the  least  that  I  do,  and  secretly  worries 
about  it,  in  the  very  kindness  of  her  heart.  Why  can't  wo- 
men carry  on  partnerships  in  housekeeping  as  men  do  in 
business  ?  I  suppose  we  are  too  particular  ;  perhaps  I  am 
just  as  much  so  as  Aunt  Rachel.  I  have  no  doubt  she 
thinks  a  little  hardly  of  me,  and  so  it  would  do  her  good — 


146  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIKXD. 

we  should  really  come  nearer  again — if  slio  had  a  change. 
If  she  ivill  go,  Joseph,  she  must  at  least  leave  us  with  the 
feeling  that  our  home  is  always  hers,  whenever  she  chooses 
to  accept  it." 

Julia  bent  over  Joseph's  chair,  gave  him  a  rapid  kiss,  and 
then  went  off  to  make  her  peace  with  Aunt  Rachel.  When 
the  two  women  came  to  the  tea-table  the  latter  had  an  un- 
certain, bewildered  air,  while  the  eyelids  of  the  former  were 
red, — either  from  tears  or  much  rubbing. 

A  fortnight  afterwards  Rachel  Miller  left  the  farm  and 
went  to  reside  with  her  widowed  niece,  in  Magnolia. 

The  day  after  her  departure  another  surprise  came  to  Jo- 
seph in  the  person  of  his  father-in-law.  Mr.  Blessing  arrived 
in  a  hired  vehicle  from  the  station.  His  face  was  so  red  and 
radiant  from  the  March  winds,  and  perhaps  some  private 
source  of  satisfaction,  that  his  sudden  arrival  could  not  pos- 
sibly be  interpreted  as  an  omen  of  ill-fortune.  He  shook 
hands  with  the  Irish  groom  who  had  driven  him  over,  gave 
him  a  handsome  gratuity  in  addition  to  the  hire  of  the  team, 
extracted  an  elegant  travelling-satchel  from  under  the  seat, 
and  met  Joseph  at  the  gate,  with  a  breezy  burst  of  feeling : — 

"  God  bless  you,  son-in-law  !  It  does  my  heart  good  to 
see  you  again  !  And  then,  at  last,  the  pleasure  of  behold- 
ing your  ancestral  seat;  really,  this  is  quite — quite  mano- 
rial!" 

Julia,  with  a  loud  cry  of  "  O  pa  !  "  came  rushing  from 
the  house. 

"  Bless  me,  how  wild  and  fresh  the  child  looks ! "  cried 
Mr.  Blessing,  after  the  embrace.  "  Only  see  the  country- 
roses  on  her  cheeks  !  Almost  too  young  and  sparkling  for 
Lady  Asten,  of  Asten  Hall,  eh?  As  Dry  den  says,  '  Happy, 
happy,  happy  pair !  '  It  takes  me  back  to  the  days  when  I 


14:7 

was  a  gay  youiig  lark;  1-uf  I  must  have  a  care,  and  not 
make  an  old  fool  of  myself.  LI  t  us  r;o  in  and  subside  into 
soberness  :  I  am  readv  both  ID  lau:/h  ai:d  cr\v' 

"When  tlu-y  were  seun  d  in  the  comfortable  front  room, 
Mr.  Blessing  opened  his  satchel  and  produced  u  largo  lea- 
ther-covered flask.  Julia  was  probablv  accustomed  to  hiss 
habits,  for  she  at  once  brought  a  gln;;s  from  the  sideboard. 

"  I  am  still  plague:!  -with  my  old  cramps/'  her  father  said 
to  Joseph,  as  he  poured  out  a  stout  dose.  "  Physiologists, 
you  know,  have  discovered  that  stimulants  diminish  the  wear 
and  tear  of  life,  and  I  find  their  theories  correct.  You,  in 
your  pastoral  isolation  and  pecuniary  security,  can  form  no 
conception  of  the  tension  under  which  we  men  of  office  and 
of  the  world  live.  Bentus  ille,  and  so  forth, — strange  that 
the  only  fragment  of  Latin  which  I  remember  should  be  so 
appropriate  !  A  little  water,  if  yon  please,  Jnlia." 

In  the  evening,  when  Mr.  Blessing,  slippered,  sat  before 
the  open  fireplace,  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  the  object  of 
his  sudden  visit  crept  by  slow  degrees  to  the  light.  "  Have 
you  been  dipping  into  oil  ?  "  he  asked  Joseph. 

Julia  made  haste  to  reply.  "  Not  yet,  but  almost  every- 
body in  the  neighborhood  is  ready  to  do  so  now,  since  Clem- 
son  has  realized  his  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  a  single  year. 
They  are  talking  of  nothing  else  in  the  village.  I  heard 
yesterday,  Joseph,  that  Old  Bishop  has  taken  three  thou- 
sand dollars'  worth  of  stock  in  a  new  company." 

"  Take  my  advice,  and  don't  touch  'em  !  "  exclaimed  Mr. 
Blessing. 

"  I  had  not  intended  to,"  said  Joseph. 

"  There  is  this  thing  about  these  excitements,"  Mr.  Bless- 
ing continued :  "  they  never  reach  the  rural  districts  until 
the  first  sure  harvest  is  over.  The  sharp,  intelligent  opera- 


14S  JOSEril    AND    TITS    FRIEND. 

tors  in  the  largo  cities — the:  men  who  are  ready  to  take  up 
soap,  thimbles,  hand-organs,  electricity,  or  hymn-books,  at  a 
moment's  notice — always  cut  into  a  new  tiling  before  its 
value  is  guessed  by  the  multitude.  Then  the  smaller  fry 
follow  and  secure  their  second  crop,  while  your  quiet  men 
in  the  country  are  shaking  their  heads  and  crying  'hum- 
bug!' Finally,  when  it  really  gets  to  be  a  humbug,  in  a 
speculative  sense,  they  just  begin  to  believe  in  it,  and  are 
fair  game  for  the  bummers  and  camp-followers  of  the  finan- 
cial army.  I  respect  Clemson,  though  I  never  heard  of  him 
before  ;  as  for  Old  Bishop,  he  may  be  a  very  worthy  man, 
but  he'll  never  see  the  color  of  his  three  thousand  dollars 
again." 

"  Pa  !  "  cried  Julia,  "  how  clear  you  do  make  everything. 
And  to  think  that  I  was  wishing — O,  wishing  so  much ! — 
that  Joseph  would  go  into  oil." 

She  hung  her  head  a  little,  looking  at  Joseph  with  an 
affectionate,  penitent  glance.  A  quick  gleam  of  satisfaction 
passed  over  Mr.  Blessing's  face ;  he  smiled  to  himself,  puffed 
rapidly  at  his  cigar  for  a  minute,  and  then  resumed  :  "  In 
such  a  field  of  speculation  everything  depends  on  being  ini- 
tiated. There  are  men  in  the  city — friends  of  mine — who 
know  every  foot  of  ground  in  the  Alleghany  Valley.  They 
can  smell  oil,  if  it's  a  thousand  feet  deep.  They  never  touch 
a  thing  that  isn't  safe, — but,  then,  they  know  what's  safe. 
In  spite  of  the  swindling  that's  going  on,  it  takes  years  to 
exhaust  the  good  points  ;  just  so  sure  as  your  honest  neigh- 
bors here  will  lose,  just  so  sure  will  these  friends  of  mine 
gain.  There  are  millions  in  what  they  have  under  way,  at 
this  moment." 

"  "What  is  it  ?  "  Julia  breathlessly  asked,  while  Joseph's 
face  betrayed  that  his  interest  was  somewhat  aroused. 


he  said, 

tre  of  the  oil  region,  which  is  represented  by  the  velL;w 
col<>r.  Tlic.se  lime  dots  above  the  bend  arc  the  ccL'brated 
riuke  Wells;  the  oth-r  dots  b<-lo\v  are  the  equally  cele- 
brated Chowder  Wells.  Tin-  di.-tanco  between  the  two  is 
nearly  three  miles.  IE' .TO  is  an  untouched  portion  of  the 
treasure, — a  pocket  of  1'actolu.s  waiting  to  be  rilled.  A  few 
of  us  have-  acquired  the  laud,  and  shall  commence  boring 
immediately." 

"  But,"  said  Joseph,  "it  seems  to  me  that  either  the  at- 
tempt must  have  been  made  already,  or  that  the  land  must 
command  such  an  enormous  price  as  to  lessen  the  profits." 

"  Wisely  spoken  !  It  is  the  first  question  which  would 
occur  to  any  prudent  mind.  But  what  if  I  say  that  neither 
is  the  case  ?  And  you,  who  are  familiar  with  the  frequent 
eccentricities  of  old  farmers,  can  understand  the  explanation. 
The  owner  of  the  land  was  one  of  your  ignorant,  stubborn 
men,  who  took  such  a  dislike -to  the  prospectors  and  specu- 
lators, that  he  refused  to  let  them  come  near  him.  Both  the 
Fluke  and  Chowder  Companies  tried  their  best  to  buy  him 
out,  but  he  had  a  malicious  pleasure  in  leading  them  on  to 
make  immense  offers,  and  then  refusing.  "Well,  a  few 
months  ago  he  died,  and  his  heirs  were  willing  enough  to  let 
the  land  go  ;  but  before  it  could  be  regularly  offered  for  sale, 
the  Fluke  and  Chowder  Wells  began  to  flow  less  and  less. 
Their  shares  fell  from  270  to  95  ;  the  supposed  value  of  the 
land  fell  with  them,  and  finally  the  moment  arrived  when 
we  could  purchase  for  a  very  moderate  sum.  I  see  the  ques- 
tion in  your  mind  ;  why  should  we  wish  to  buy  when  the 
other  wells  were  giving  out  ?  There  comes  in  the  secret, 


150  JOSKPII    AXD    HIS    FRIKNI). 

which  is  oui'  veritable  success.  Consider  it  whispered  in 
your  ears,  and  locked  in  your  bosoms, — torpedoes  !  It  was 
not  then  generally  exploded  (to  carry  out  the  image),  so  we 
bought  at  the  low  figure,  in  the  very  nick  of  time.  Within 
a  week  the  Fhike  and  Chowder  Wells  were  torpedoed,  and 
came  back  to  more  than  their  former  capacity  ;  the  shares 
rose  as  rapidly  as  they  had  fallen,  and  the  central  body  we 
hold — to  which  they  are,  as  it  were,  the  two  arms — could 
now  be  sold  for  ten  times  what  it  cost  us  !  " 

Here  Mr.  Blessing  paused,  with  his  finger  011  the  map, 
and  a  light  of  merited  triumph  in  his  eyes.  Julia  clapped 
her  hands,  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  cried :  "  Trumps  at 
last !  " 

"  Ay,"  said  he,  "  wealth,  repose  for  my  old  days, — 
wealth  for  us  all,  if  your  husband  will  but  take  the  hand 
I  hold  out  to  him.  You  now  know,  son-in-law,  why  the 
endorsement  you  gave  me  was  of  such  vital  importance  ; 
the  note,  as  you  are  aware,  will  mature  in  another  week. 
Why  should  you  not  charge  yourself  with  the  payment, 
in  consideration  of  the  transfer  to  you  of  shares  of  the 
original  stock,  already  so  immensely  appreciated  in  value  ? 
J  have  delayed  making  any  provision,  for  the  sake  of 
offering  you  the  chance." 

Julia  was  about  to  speak,  but  restrained  herself  with 
an  apparent  effort. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  Joseph  said,  "  who  are  asso- 
ciated with  you  in  the  undertaking  ?  " 

"  Well  done,  again !  Where  did  you  get  your  practical 
shrewdness  ?  The  best  men  in  the  city ! — not  only  the 
Collector  and  the  Surveyor,  but  Congressman  Whaley, 
E.  D.  Stokes,  of  Stokes,  Pirricutt  and  Company,  and  even 
the  Reverend  Doctor  Lellifant.  If  I  had  not  been  an 


JO.-KPJI    AND    HIS    FPJEXD.  151 

old  friend  of  K;u;uck,  tin;  agent  who  negotiated  the 
purchase,  my  chance  would  have  been  impalpably  small. 
1  have  all  the  documents  with  me.  There  has  been  no 
more  splendid  opportunity  since  oil  became  a  power ! 
1  hesitate  to  advise  even  one  so  near  to  me  in  snch 
matters;  but  if  you  knew  tlie  certainties  as  I  know  them, 
you  would  go  in  with  all  your  available  capital.  The 
excitement,  as  you  say,  lias  reached  the  country  com- 
munities, which  are  slow  to  rise  and  equally  slow  to 
subside;  all  oil  stock  will  be  in  demand,  but  the  Ama- 
ranth,— '  The  Blessing,'  they  wished  to  call  it,  but  I  was 
obliged  to  decline,  for  otFicial  reasons, — the  Amaranth 
shares  will  be  the  golden  apex  of  the  market !  " 

Julia  looked  at  Joseph  with  eager,  hungry  eyes.  He, 
too,  was  warmed  and  tempted  by  the  prospect  of  easy 
profit  which  the  scheme  held  out  to  him ;  only  the  habit 
of  his  nature  resisted,  but  with  still  diminishing  force. 
"  I  might  venture  the  thousand,"  lie  said. 

"  It  is  no  venture !  "  Julia  cried.  "  In  all  the  specu- 
lations I  have  heard  discussed  by  pa  and  his  friends, 
there  was  nothing  so  admirably  managed  as  this.  Such 
a  certainty  of  profit  may  never  come  again.  If  you 
will  be  advised  by  me,  Joseph,  you  will  take  shares  to 
the  amount  of  five  or  ten  thousand." 

"  Ten  thousand  is  exactly  the  amount  I  hold  open," 
Mr.  Blessing  gravely  remarked.  "  That,  however,  does 
not  represent  the  necessary  payment,  which  can  hardly 
amount  to  more  than  twenty-five  per  cent,  before  we 
begin  to  realize.  Only  ten  per  cent,  has  yet  been  called, 
so  that  your  thousand  at  present  will  secure  you  an  in- 
vestment of  ten  thousand.  Really,  it  seems  like  a  for- 
tunate coincidence." 


152  JOr'KI'll    AXD    HIS    FRIEND. 

He  went  on,  heating  himself  with  his  own  words,  until 
the  possibilities  of  the  case  grow  so  splendid  that  Joseph 
felt  himself  da/zled  and  bewildered.  Mr.  Blessing  was 
a  master  in  the  avt  of  seductive  statement.  Even  where 
he  was  only  the  mouthpiece  of  another,  a  few  repetitious 
led  him  to  the  profoundest  belief.  Here  there  could  be 
no  doubt  of  his  sincerity,  and,  moreover,  every  movement 
from  the  very  inception  of  the  scheme,  every  statistical 
item,  all  collateral  influences,  were  clear  in  his  mind  and 
instantly  accessible.  Although  he  began  by  saying,  "  I 
will  make  no  estimate  of  the  profits,  because  it  is  not  pru- 
dent to  fix  our  hopes  on  a  positive  sum,"  he  was  soon 
carried  far  away  from  this  resolution,  and  most  luxuri-' 
ously  engaged,  pencil  in  hand,  in  figuring  out  results  which 
drove  Julia  wild  with  desire,  and  almost  took  away  Joseph's 
breath.  The  latter  finally  said,  as  they  rose  from  the 
session,  late  at  night : — 

"  It  is  settled  that  I  take  as  much  as  the  thousand  will 
cover;  but  I  would  rather  think  over  the  matter  quietly 
for  a  day  or  two  before  venturing  further." 

"  You  must,"  replied  Mr.  Blessing,  patting  him  on 
the  shoulder.  "  These  things  are  so  new  to  your  experi- 
ence, that  they  disturb  and — I  might  almost  say — alarm 
you.  It  is  like  bringing  an  increase  of  oxygen  into  your 
mental  atmosphere.  (Ha !  a  good  figure :  for  the  result 
will  be,  a  richer,  fuller  life.  I  must  remember  it.)  But 
you  are  a  healthy  organization,  and  therefore  you  are 
certain  to  see  clearly :  I  can  wait?with  confidence." 

The  nex,t  morning  Joseph,  tnthout  declaring  his  pur- 
pose, drove  to  Coventry  Fo£ge  to  consult  Philip.  Mr. 
Blessing  and  Julia,  remaining  at  home,  went  over  the 
shining  ground  again,  and  yet  again,  confirming  each 


153 


other 
lie  pa; 
not..1  t 

and  maple-trees,  could  not  prevent  his  thoughts  from 
dwelling  on  the  delights  of  wealth. — society,  books,  travel, 
and  all  the  mellow,  furtmuite  expansion  of  life.  Involun- 
tarily., ho  hoped  that  Philip's  counsel  might  coincide  with 
his  father-in-law's  offer. 

But  Philip  was  not  at  home.  The  forge  was  in  full  acti- 
vity, the  cottage  on  the  knoll  was  repainted  ancl  made 
attractive  in  various  ways,  and  Philip  would  soon  return 
with  his  sister  to  establish  a  permanent  home.  Joseph 
found  the  sign-spiritual  of  his  friend  in  numberless  little 
touches  and  changes ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  a  new  soul 
had  entered  into  the  scenery  of  the  place. 

A  mile  or  two  farther  up  the  valley,  a  company  of 
mechanics  and  laborers  were  apparently  tearing  the  old 
Calvert  mansion  inside  out.  Plouse,  bam,  garden,  and 
lawn  were  undergoing  a  complete  transformation.  While 
he  paused  at  the  entrance  of  the  private  lane,  to  take  a 
survey  of  the  operations,  Mr.  Clcmson  rode  down  to  him. 
from  the  house.  The  Hopetons,  he  said,  would  migrate 
from  the  city  early  in  May :  work  had  already  commenced 
on  the  new  railway,  and  in  another  year  a  different  life 
would  come  upon  the  whole  neighborhood. 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  Joseph  ventured  to 
sound  Mr.  Clemson  in  regard  to  the  newly  formed  oil 
companies.  The  latter  frankly  confessed  that  he  had 
withdrawn  from  further  speculation,  satisfied  with  his 
fortune;  he  preferred  to  give  no  opinion,  further  than 
that  money  was  still  to  be  made,  if  prudently  placed. 

The  Fluke  and  Chowder  Wells,  he    said,   were  old,  well 
7* 


154:  JOSKI'JI    AND    HIS    FIITEXD. 

known,  and  profitable.  The  new  application  of  torpedoes 
had  restored  their  failing  flow,  and  the  stock  had  recovered 
from  its  temporary  depreciation.  His  own  venture  had 
been  made  iu  another  part  of  the  region. 

The  atmosphere  into  which  Joseph  entered,  on  return- 
ing home,  took  away  all  further  power  of  resistance. 
Tempted  already,  and  impressed  by  what  he  had  learned, 
he  did  what  his  wife  and  father-in-law  desired. 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEND.  155 


CHAPTER  XV. 


HAVING  assumed  the  payment  of  Mr.  Blessing's  note, 
as  the  first  instalment  upon  his  stock,  Joseph  was  com- 
pelled to  prepare  himself  for  future  emergencies.  A  year 
must  still  elapse  before  the  terra  of  the  mortgage  upon 
his  farm  would  expire,  but  the  sums  he  had  invested  for 
the  purpose  of  meeting  it  when  due  must  be  held  ready 
for  use.  The  assurance  of  great  and  certain  profit  in  the 
mean  time  rendered  this  step  easy  ;  and,  even  at  the  worst, 
he  reflected,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  procuring  a 
new  mortgage  whereby  to  liquidate  the  old.  A  notice 
which  he  received  at  this  time,  that  a  second  assessment 
of  ten  per  cent,  on  the  Amaranth  stock  had  been  made, 
was  both  unexpected  and  disquieting.  Mr.  Blessing, 
however,  accompanied  it  with  a  letter,  making  clear  not 
only  the  necessity,  but  the  admirable  wisdom  of  a  greater 
present  outlay  than  had  been  anticipated.  So  the  first 
of  April  —  the  usual  business  anniversary  of  the  neighbor- 
hood —  went  smoothly  by.  Money  was  plenty,  the  Asten 
credit  had  always  been  sound,  and  Joseph  tasted  for  the 
first  time  a  pleasant  sense  of  power  in  so  easily  receivin" 
and  transferring  considerable  sums. 

One  result  of  the  venture  was  the  development  of  a  new- 
phase  in  Jxilia's  nature.  She  not  only  accepted  the  future 
profit  as  certain,  but  she  had  apparently  calculated  its  exact 
amount  and  framed  her  plans  accordingly.  If  she  had  been 


humiliated  by  the  character  of  Joseph's  first  business  trans- 
action with  her  father,  she  now  made  amends  fur  it.  "  Pa" 
was  their  good  genius.  "  Pa"  was  tha  agency  whereby  they 
should  achieve  wealth  and  social  importance.  Joseph  now 
had  the  clearest  evidence  of  the  difference  between  a  man 
who  knew  the  world  and  was  of  value  in  it,  and  their  slow, 
dull-headed  country  neighbors.  Indeed,  Julia  seemed  to 
consider  the  Asten  property  as  rather  contemptible  beside 
the  splendor  of  the  Blessing  scheme.  Her  gratitude  for  a 
quiet  home,  her  love  of  country  life,  her  disparagement  of 
the  shams  and  exactions  of  "  society,"  were  given  up  as  sud- 
denly and  coolly  as  if  she  had  never  affected  them.  She 
gave  herself  no  pains  to  make  the  transition  gradual,  and 
thus  lessen  its  shock.  Perhaps  she  supposed  that  Joseph's 
fresh,  unsuspicious  nature  was  so  plastic  that  it  had  already 
sufficiently  taken  her  impress,  and  that  he  would  easily  for- 
get the  mask  she  had  worn.  If  so,  she  was  seriously  mis- 
taken. 

He  saw,  with  a  deadly  chill  of  the  heart,  the  change  in 
her  manner, — a  change  so  complete  that  another  face  con- 
fronted him  at  the  table,  even  as  another  heart  beat  beside 
his  on  the  dishallowed  marriage-bed.  He  saw  the  gentle 
droop  vanish  from  the  eyelids,  leaving  the  cold,  flinty  pupils 
unshaded ;  the  soft  appeal  of  the  half-opened  lips  was  lost 
in  the  rigid,  almost  cruel  compression  which  now  seemed 
habitual  to  them ;  all  the  slight  dependent  gestures,  the  ten- 
der airs  of  reference  to  his  will  or  pleasure,  had  rapidly 
transformed  themselves  into  expressions  of  command  or  ob- 
stinate resistance.  But  the  patience  of  a  loving  man  is 
equal  to  that  of  a  loving  woman:  he  was  silent,  although 
his  silence  covered  an  ever-increasing  sense  of  outrage. 

Once  it  happened,  that  after  Julia  had  been  unusually 


15 

eloquent    concerning 


UNO  they  should  make  of  "  p;i' 
quietlv  remarked : — 

"  iVm  seem,  to  forget,  Julia,  dint  v.-ithout  my  money  not 
much  could  have  been  done.'' 

An  angry  color  came  into  her  face  ;  but,  on  second  thought, 
she  bent  her  head,  and  murmured  in  an  offended  voice  :  "It 
is  very  mean  and  ungenerous  in  you  to  refer  to  our  tempo- 
rary poverty.  You  might  forget,  by  this  time,  the  help  pa 
was  compelled  to  ask  of  you/' 

"  I  did  not  think  of  that !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Besides, 
you  did  not  seem  entirely  satisfied  with  my  help,  at  the 
time." 

"  O,  how  you  misunderstand  me !  "  she  groaned.  "  I 
only  wished  to  know  the  extent  of  his  need.  He  is  so 
generous,  so  considerate  towards  us,  that  we  only  guess  his 
misfortune  at  the  last  moment." 

The  possibility  of  being  unjust  silenced  Joseph.  There 
were  tears  in  Julia's  voice,  and  he  imagined  they  would  soon 
rise  to  her  eyes.  After  a  long,  uncomfortable  pause,  he 
said,  for  the  sake  of  changing  the  subject :  "  What  can  have 
become  of  El  wood  Withers?  I  have  not  seen  him  for 
months." 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  care  to  know,"  she  remarked. 
"  He's  a  rough,  vulgar  fellow  :  it's  just  as  well  if  he  keeps 
away  from  us." 

"  Julia  !  he  is  my  friend,  and  must  always  be  welcome  to 
me.  You  were  friendly  enough  towards  him,  and  towards 
all  the  neighborhood,  last  summer :  how  is  it  that  you  have 
not  a  good  word  to  say  now  ?  " 

He  spoke  warmly  and  indignantly.  Julia,  however,  look- 
ed at  him  with  a  calm,  smiling  face.  "  It  is  very  simple," 


158  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FEIEXD. 

she  said.  "  You  will  agree  with  me,  in  another  year.  A 
guest,  as  I  was,  must  try  to  see  only  the  pleasant  side  of 
people:  that's  our  duty;  and  sol  enjoyed — as  much  as  I 
could — the  rusticity,  the  awkwardness,  the  ignorance,  the 
(now,  don't  be  vexed,  dear !) — the  vulgarity  of  your  friend. 
As  one  of  the  society  of  the  neighborhood,  as  a  resident,  I 
am  not  bound  by  any  such  delicacy.  I  take  the  same  right 
to  judge  and  select  as  I  should  take  anywhere.  Unless  I 
am  to  be  hypocritical,  I  cannot — towards  you,  at  least- 
conceal  my  real  feelings.  How  shall  I  ever  get  you  to  see 
the  difference  between  yourself  and  these  people,  unless  I 
continually  point  it  out  ?  You  are  modest,  and  don't  like 
to  acknowledge  your  own  superiority." 

She  rose  from  the  table,  laughing,  and  went  out  of  the 
room  humming  a  lively  air,  leaving  Joseph  to  make  the  best 
of  her  words. 

A  few  days  after  this  the  work  on  the  branch  railway, 
extending  down  the  valley,  reached  a  point  where  it  could 
be  seen  from  the  Asten  farm.  Joseph,  on  riding  over  to  in- 
spect the  operations,  was  surprised  to  find  Elwood,  who  had 
left  his  father's  place  and  become  a  sub-contractor.  The 
latter  showed  his  hearty  delight  at  their  meeting. 

"  I've  been  meaning  to  come  up,"  he  said,  "  but  this  is  a 
busy  time  for  me.  It's  a  chance  I  couldn't  let  slip,  and  now 
that  I've  taken  hold  I  must  hold  on.  I  begin  to  think  this 
is  the  thing  I  was  made  for,  Joseph." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  before,"  Joseph  answered,  "  and  yet 
I'm  sure  you  are  right.  How  did  you  hit  upon  it  ?  " 

"I didn't;  it  was  Mr.  Held." 

«  Philip  ?  " 

"  Him.  You  know  I've  been  hauling  for  the  Forge,  and 
so  it  turned  up  by  degrees,  as  I  may  say.  He's  at  home} 


FIJIEXD.  159 

and,  I  expect,  looking  for  yon.  But  Low  are  you  new, 
really?"' 

Elwood's  question  meant  a  great  deal  niore  than  lie  knew 
h'iw  to  say.  Suddenly,  in  a  llash  of  memory,  tlieir  talk  of 
the  previous  year  returned  to  Joseph's  mind;  lie  saw  his 
friend's  true  instincts  and  his  own  blindness  as  never  be- 
fore. But  he  must  dissemble,  if  possible,  with  that  strong, 
rough,  kindly  face  before  him. 

"  O,"  he  said,  attempting  a  cheerful  air,  "  I  am  one  of  the 
old  folks  now.  You  must  come  up — " 

The  recollection  of  Julia's  words  cut  short  the  invitation 
upon  his  lips.  A  sharp  pang  went  through  his  heart,  and 
the  treacherous  blood  crowded  to  his  face  all  the  more  that 
lie  tried  to  hold  it  back. 

"  Come,  and  I'll  show  you  where  we're  going  to  make 
the  cutting,"  Ehvood  quietly  said,  taking  him  by  the  arm. 
Joseph  fancied,  thenceforth,  that  there  was  a  special  kind- 
ness in  his  manner,  and  the  suspicion  seemed  to  rankle  in 
his  mind  as  if  he  had  been  slighted  by  his  friend. 

As  before,  to  vary  the  tedium  of  his  empty  life,  so  now,  to 
escape  from  the  knowledge  which  he  found  himself  more  and 
more  powerless  to  resist,  he  busied  himself  beyond  all  need 
with  the  work  of  the  farm.  Philip  had  returned  with  his 
sister,  he  knew,  but  after  the  meeting  with  Elwood  he  shrank 
with  a  painful  dread  from  Philip's  heart-deep,  intimate  eye. 
Julia,  however,  all  the  more  made  use  of  the  soft  spring 
weather  to  survey  the  social  ground,  and  choose  where  to 
take  her  stand.  Joseph  scarcely  knew,  indeed,  how  exten- 
sive her  operations  had  been,  until  she  announced  an  invita- 
tion to  dine  with  the  Hopetons,  who  were  now  in  possession 
of  the  renovated  Calvert  place.  She  enlarged,  more  than 
was  necessary,  on  the  distinguished  city  position  of  the 


ICO  JOSEPH    AX1)    III5    FR1KXD. 

family,  and  the  importance  of  "cultivating"  its  country 
members.  Joseph's  single  brief  meeting  wiih  .Mr.  Hope- 
ton — who  was  a  short,  solid  man,  in  ripe  middle  age,  of  a 
thoroughly  cosmopolitan,  though  not  a  remarkably  intellec- 
tual stamp — had  been  agreeable,  and  he  recognized  the  obli- 
gation to  be  neighborly.  Therefore  lie  readily  accepted  the 
invitation  on  his  own  grounds. 

"When  the  day  arrived,  Julia,  after  spending  the  morning 
over  her  toilet,  came  forth  resplendent  in  rosy  silk,  bright 
and  dazzling  in  complexion,  and  with  all  her  former  grace  of 
languid  eyelids  and  parted  lips.  The  void  in  Joseph's  heart 
grew  wider  at  the  sight  of  her ;  for  he  perceived,  as  never 
before,  her  consummate  skill  in  assuming  a  false  character. 
It  seemed  incredible  that  he  should  have  been  so  deluded. 
For  the  first  time  a  feeling  of  repulsion,  which  was  almost 
disgust,  came  upon  him  as  he  listened  to  her  prattle  of  de- 
light in  the  soft  weather,  and  the  fragrant  woods,  and  the 
blossoming  orchards.  Was  not,  also,  this  delight  assumed? 
he  asked  himself:  false  in  one  thing,  false  in  all,  was  the 
fatal  logic  which  then  and  there  began  its  torment. 

The  most  that  was  possible  in  such  a  short  time  had  been 
achieved  on  the  Calvert  place.  The  house  had  been  bright- 
ened, surrounded  by  light,  airy  verandas,  and  the  lawn  and 
garden,  thrown  into  one  and  given  into  the  hands  of  a  skil- 
ful gardener,  were  scarcely  to  be  recognized.  A  broad,  solid 
gravel-walk  replaced  the  old  tan-covered  path  ;  a  pretty 
fountain  tinkled  before  the  door ;  thick  beds  of  geranium 
in  flower  studded  the  turf,  and  veritable  thickets  of  rose- 
trees  were  waiting  for  June.  "Within  the  house,  some  rooms 
had  been  thrown  together,  the  walls  richly  yet  harmoniously 
colored,  and  the  sumptuous  furniture  thus  received  a  proper 
setting.  In  contrast  to  the  houses  of  even  the  wealthiest 


1G1 

farmers,  winch  expressed  a  nicely  reckoned  sufficiency  of 
comfort,  tlie  place  had  tin  air  of  joyous  profusion.,  of  a 
wealth  which  deliglited  in  itself. 

Z\Ir.  Hopeton  met  tlieui  with  the  frank,  offhand  manner 
of  a  man  of  business.  I  [is  wife  loll  owed,  and  the  two 
guests  made  a  rapid  inspection  of  her  as  she  came  down  the 
hail.  Julia  noticed  that  her  crocus-colored  dress  was  high 
in  the  neck,  and  plainly  trimmed ;  that  she  wore  no  orna- 
ments, and  that  the  natural  pallor  of  her  complexion  had 
not  been  corrected  by  art.  Joseph  remarked  the  simple 
grace  of  her  movement,  the  large,  dark,  inscrutable  eyes,  the 
smooth  bands  of  her  black  hair,  and  the  pure  though  some- 
what lengthened  oval  of  her  face.  The  gentle  dignity  of  her 
manner  more  than  refreshed,  it  soothed  him.  She  was  so 
much  younger  than  her  husband  that  Joseph  involuntarily 
wondered  how  they  should  have  come  together. 

The  greetings  were  scarcely  over  before  Philip  and  Made- 
line Held  arrived.  Julia,  with  the  least  little  gush  of  ten- 
derness, kissed  the  latter,  whom  Philip  then  presented  to 
Joseph  for  the  first  time.  She  had  the  same  wavy  hair  as 
her  brother,  but  the  golden  hue  was  deepened  nearly  into 
brown,  and  her  eyes  were  a  clear  hazel.  It  was  also  the 
same  frank,  firm  face,  but  her  woman's  smile  was  so  much 
the  sweeter  as  her  lips  were  lovelier  than  the  man's.  Joseph 
seemed  to  clasp  an  instant  friendship  in  her  offered  hand. 

There  was  but  one  other  guest,  who,  somewhat  to  his  sur- 
prise, was  Lucy  Henderson.  Julia  concealed  whatever  she 
might  have  felt,  and  made  so  much  reference  to  their  former 
meetings  as  might  satisfy  Lucy  without  conveying  to  Mrs. 
Hopeton  the  impression  of  any  special  intimacy.  Lucy 
looked  thin  and  worn,  and  her  black  silk  dress  was  not  of 
the  latest  fashion  :  she  seemed  to  be  the  poor  relation  of  the 


102  JOSKl'II    AND    HIS    FIUKXD. 

company.  Joseph  learned  that  she  had  taken  one  of  the 
schools  in  the  valley,  for  the  summer.  Her  manner  to  him 
was  as  simple  and  friendly  as  ever,  but  ho  felt  the  presence 
of  some  new  element  of  strength  and  self-reliance  in  her  na- 
ture. 

His  place  at  dinner  was  beside  Mrs.  Hopeton,  while 
Lucy — apparently  by  accident — sat  upon  the  other  side  of 
the  hostess.  Philip  and  the  host  led  the  conversation,  con- 
fining it  too  exclusively  to  the  railroad  and  iron  interests  ; 
but  these  finally  languished,  and  gave  way  to  other  topics  in 
which  all  could  take  part.  Joseph  felt  that  while  the  others, 
except  Lucy  and  himself,  were  fashioned  under  different  as- 
pects of  life,  some  of  which  they  shared  in.  common,  yet  that 
their  seeming  ease  and  freedom  of  communication  touched, 
here  and  there,  some  invisible  limit,  which  they  were  care- 
ful not  to  pass.  Even  Philip  appeared  to  be  beyond  his 
reach,  for  the  time. 

The  country  and  the  people,  being  comparatively  new  to 
them,  naturally  came  to  be  discussed. 

"  Mr.  Held,  or  Mr.  Asten, — either  of  you  know  both," — 
Mr.  Hopeton  asked,  "  what  are  the  principal  points  of  differ- 
ence between  society  in  the  city  and  in  the  country  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  know  too  little  of  the  city,"  said  Joseph. 

"  And  I  know  too  little  of  the  country, — here,  at  least," 
Philip  added.  "  Of  course  the  same  passions  and  prejudices 
come  into  play  everywhere.  There  are  circles,  there  are 
jealousies,  ups  and  downs,  scandals,  suppressions,  and  reha- 
bilitations :  it  can't  be  otherwise." 

"Are  they  not  a  little  worse  in  the  country,"  said  Julia, 
"  because — I  may  ask  the  question  here,  among  us — there  is 
less  refinement  of  manner  ?  " 

"  If  the  external  forms  are  ruder,"  Philip  resumed,  "  it 


163 

may  be  an  advantage,  in  one  sense.  Hypocrisy  cannot  be 
developed  into  an  art." 

Julia  bit  her  lip,  and  was  silent. 

"  But  are  the  country  people,  hereabouts,  so  rough  '?  "  Mrs. 
Hopeton  asked.  "  I  confess  that  they  don't  seem  so  to  me. 
What  do  yon  say,  Miss  Henderson  '?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  am  not  an  impartial  witness,"  Lucy  answered. 
"  We  care  less  about  what  is  called  '  manners  '  than  the  city 
people.  We  have  no  fixed  rules  for  dress  and  behavior, — only 
we  don't  like  any  one  to  differ  too  much  from  the  rest  of  us." 

"  That's  it!  "  Mr.  Hopeton  cried;  "  the  tyrannical  level- 
ling sentiment  of  an  imperfectly  developed  community ! 
.Fortunately,  I  am  beyond  its  reach." 

Julia's  eyes  sparkled :  she  looked  across  the  table  at  Jo- 
seph, with  a  triumphant  air. 

Philip  suddenly  raised  his  head.  "  How  would  you  cor- 
rect it  ?  Simply  by  resistance  ?  "  he  asked. 

Mr.  Hopeton  laughed.  "I  should  no  doubt  get  myself 
into  a  hornet's-nest.  No  ;  by  indifference  !  " 

Then  Madeline  Held  spoke.  "  Excuse  me,"  she  said  ;  "  but 
is  indifference  possible,  even  if  it  were  right?  You  seem  to 
take  the  levelling  spirit  for  granted,  without  looking  into  its 
character  and  causes ;  there  must  be  some  natural  sense  of 
justice,  no  matter  how  imperfectly  society  is  developed.  We 
are  members  of  this  community, — at  least,  Philip  and  I  cer- 
tainly consider  ourselves  so, — and  I  am  determined  not  to 
judge  it  without  knowledge,  or  to  offend  what  may  be  only 
mechanical  habits  of  thought,  unless  I  can  see  a  sure  advan- 
tage in  doing  so." 

Lucy  Henderson  looked  at  the  speaker  with  a  bright, 
grateful  face.  Joseph's  eyes  wandered  from  her  to  Julia, 
who  was  silent  and  watchful. 


IG-i  JOSKl'II    ASl)    HIS    FUL'::XD. 

"  But  I  havo  no  time  for  such  conscientious  studies,"  ^Fr. 
Hopeton  resumed.  "  One  can  be.  sati.siied  with  L;df  a  dozen. 
neighbors,  and  let  the  mass  go.  Indifference,  after  all,  is  the 
best  philosophy.  What  do  you  say,  3.1  r.  Held  •*  " 

"  JudiiFerence  !  "  Philip  echoed.  A  dark  flush  caino  into 
his  face,  and  he  was  silent  a  moment.  "  Yes:  oui1  hearts  are 
inconvenient  appendages.  We  sutler  a  deal  from  unneces- 
sary sympathies,  and  from  imagining,  I  suppose,  that  others 
feel  them  as  we  do.  These  uneasy  features  of  society  are 
simply  the  effort  of  nature  to  find  some  occupation  for  brains 
otherwise  idle — or  empty.  Teach  the  people  to  think,  and 
they  will  disappear." 

Joseph  stared  at  Philip,  feel  ing  that  a  secret  bitterness  was 
hidden  under  his  careless,  mocking  air.  Mrs.  Hopeton  rose, 
and  the  company  left  the  table.  Madeline  Held  had  a 
troubled  expression,  but  there  was  an  eager,  singular  bright- 
ness in  Julia's  eyes. 

"  Emily,  let  us  have  coffee  on  the  veranda,"  said  Mr. 
Hopeton,  leading  the  way.  He  had  already  half  forgotten 
the  subject  of  conversation  :  his  own  expressions,  in  fact, 
had  been  made  very  much  at  random,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  keeping  up  the  flow  of  talk.  He  had  no  very 
fixed  views  of  any  kind,  beyond  the  sphere  of  his  business 
activity. 

Philip,  noticing  the  impression  he  had  made  on  Joseph, 
drew  him  to  one  side.  "  Don't  seriously  remember  my 
words  against  me,"  he  said  ;  "  you  were  sorry  to  hear  them, 
1  know.  All  I  meant  was,  that  an  over-sensitive  tenderness 
towards  everybody  is  a  fault.  Besides,  I  was  provoked  to 
answer  him  in  his  own  vein," 

"  But,  Philip  !  "  Joseph  whispered,  "  such  words  tempt 
me  !  What  if  they  were  true  ?  " 


16; 


Philip  g:r.*ped  his  arm  wiih  a  painful  force.  "They 
never  can  be  true  to  you,  Joseph,"  lie  said. 

Gay  and  pleasant  as  the  company  senaed  to  b--\  each  one 
felt  a  secret  sense  of  relief  when  it  came  to  an  end.  As  Jo- 
seph drove  homewards,  silently  recalling  what  had  been 
said,  .Julia  interrupted  his  reilections  with  :  '*'  \\~ell,  what  do 
you  think  of  the  Hopetotis  ?  " 

"She  is  an  interesting  woman,'"  he  answered. 

"  But  reserved  ;  and  si >e  shows  very  little  taste  in  dress. 
However,  I  suppose  you  hardly  noticed  anything  of  the 
kind.  Hhe  kept  Lucy  Henderson  beside  her  as  a  foil  :  Ma- 
deline Held  would  have  been  damaging." 

Joseph  only  partly  guessed  her  meaning  ;  it  was  repug- 
nant, and  he  determined  to  avoid  its  further-  discussion. 

"  Hopeton  is  a  shrewd  business  man,"  Julia  continued, 
"  but  he  cannot  compare  with  her  for  shrewdness — either 
with  her  or— Philip  Held  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  made  a  discovery  before  the  dinner  was  over,  which 
you— innocent,  unsuspecting  man  that  you  are — might  have 
before  your  eyes  for  years,  without  seeing  it.  Tell  me  now, 
honestly,  did  you  notice  nothing  ?  " 

"  What  should  I  notice,  beyond  what  was  said  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That  was  the  least ! "  she  cried ;  "  but,  of  course,  I 
knew  you  couldn't.  And  perhaps  you  Avon't  believe  me, 
when  I  tell  you  that  Philip  Held, — your  particular  friend, 
your  hero,  for  aught  I  know,  your  pattern  of  virtue  and 
character,  and  all  that  is  manly  and  noble, — that  Philip 
Held,  I  say,-  is  furiously  in  love  with  Mrs.  Hopeton  !  " 

Joseph  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot,  and  turned  around 
with  an  angry  red  on  his  brow.  "  Julia  !  "  he  said,  "  how 
dare  you  speak  so  of  Philip  !  " 


106  JOSEPH    AND    Illrf    FRIEND. 

She  laughed.  "  Because  I  dare  to  speak  the  truth,  whon 
I  sec  it.  I  thought  I  should  surprise  you.  I  remembered 
a  certain  rumor  I  had  heard  before  she  was  married, — while 
she  was  Emily  Marrable, — and  I  watched  them  closer  than 
they  guessed.  I'm  certain  of  Philip  :  as  for  her,  she's  a 
deep  creature,  and  she  was  011  her  guard  ;  but  they  are 
near  neighbors." 

Joseph  was  thoroughly  aroused  and  indignant.  "It  is 
your  own  fancy  !  "  lie  exclaimed.  "  You  hate  Philip  on 
account  of  that  affair  with  Clementina ;  but  you  ought  to 
have  some  respect  for  the  woman  whose  hospitality  you 
have  accepted  !  " 

"  Bless  me  !  I  have  any  quantity  of  respect  both  for  her 
and  her  furniture.  By  the  by,  Joseph,  our  parlor  would 
furnish  better  than  hers ;  I  have  been  thinking  of  a  few 
changes  we  might  make,  which  would  wonderfully  improve 
the  house.  As  for  Philip,  Clementina  was  a  fool.  She'd 
be  glad  enough  to  have  him  now,  but  in  these  matters,  once 
gone  is  gone  for  good.  Somehow,  people  who  marry  for 
love  very  often  get  rich  afterwards, — ourselves,  for  in- 
stance." 

It  was  some  time  before  Joseph's  excitement  subsided. 
He  had  resented  Julia's  suspicion  as  dishonorable  to  Philip, 
yet  he  could  not  banish  the  conjecture  of  its  possible  truth. 
If  Philip's  affected  cynicism  had  tempted  him,  Julia's  un- 
blushing assumption  of  the  existence  of  a  passion  which  was 
forbidden,  and  therefore  positively  guilty,  seemed  to  stain 
the  pure  texture  of  his  natxire.  The  lightness  with  which 
she  spoke  of  the  matter  was  even  more  abhorrent  to  him 
than  the  assertion  itself ;  the  malicious  satisfaction  in  the 
tones  of  her  voice  had  not  escaped  his  ear. 

"  Julia,"  he  said,  just  before  they  reached  Lome,  "  do  not 


JOSKI'U    AXI)    HIS    iTJEXI).  107 

mention   your   fancy    to    another   soul   than  mo.      It  Avould 
reflect  discredit  on  you." 

"  You  are  innocent,"  she  answered.  ';  And  yon  arc  not 
complimentary.  If  I  have  any  remarkable  qnaliiy,  it  is 
tact.  Whenever  I  speak,  I  shall  know  the  effect  before- 
hand ;  even  pa,  with  all  his  official  experience,  is  no  match 
for  me  in  this  line.  I  see  what  the  Hopetons  are  after,  and 
I  mean  to  show  them  that  we  Avere  first  in  the  field.  Don't 
be  concerned,  yon  good,  excitable  creature,  yon  are  no  match 
for  such  well-drilled  people.  Let  me  alone,  and  before  the 
summer  is  over  we  will  "ive  the  law  to  the  neighborhood ! " 


168  jo.sKrji  AND  ins  FJRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

JOSEPH'S  TROUBLE,  AND  PHILIP'S. 

THE  bare,  repulsive,  inexorable  truth  was  revealed  at  last. 
There  was  no  longer  any  foothold  for  doubt,  any  possibility 
of  continuing  his  desperate  self-deceit.  From  that  day  all 
the  joy,  the  trust,  the  hope,  seemed  to  fade  out  of  Joseph's 
life.  What  had  been  lost  was  irretrievable  :  the  delusion 
of  a  few  months  had  fixed  his  fate  forever. 

His  sense  of  outrage  was  so  strong  and  keen— so  burned 
upon  his  consciousness  as  to  affect  him  like  a  dull  physical 
pain — that  a  just  and  temperate  review  of  his  situation  was 
impossible.  False  in  one  thing,  false  in  all :  that  was  the 
single,  inevitable  conclusion.  Of  course  she  had  never  even 
loved  him.  Her  coy  maiden  airs,  her  warm  abandonment 
to  feeling,  her  very  tears  and  blushes,  were  artfully  simu- 
lated :  perhaps,  indeed,  she  had  laughed  in  her  heart,  yea, 
sneered,  at  his  credulous  tenderness  !  Her  assumption  of 
rule,  therefore,  became  an  arrogance  not  to  be  borne.  What 
right  had  she,  guilty  of  a  crime  for  which  there  is  no  name 
and  no  punishment,  to  reverse  the  secret  justice  of  the  soul, 
and  claim  to  be  rewarded  ? 

So  reasoned  Joseph  to  himself,  in  his  solitary  broodings  ; 
but  the  spell  was  not  so  entirely  broken  as  he  imagined. 
Sternly  as  he  might  have  resolved  in  advance,  there  was  a 
glamour  in  her  mask  of  cheerfulness  and  gentleness,  which 
made  his  resolution  seem  hard  and  cruel.  In  her  presence 
he  could  not  clearly  remember  his  wrongs  :  the  past  delusion 


1G9 

had  been  a  reality,  nevertheless  :  and  ho  could  make  no 
assertion  which  did  not  involve  his  own  miserable  humilia- 
tion. Thus  the  depth  and  vital  force  of  his  struggle  could 
not  be  guessed  by  Julia.  She  saw  only  irritable  moods,  the 
natural  male  resistance  which  she  had  often  remarked  in  her 
father, — perhaps,  also,  the  annoyance  of  giving  up  certain 
'•'  romantic"  fancies,  which  .sin1  believed  to  be  common  to  all 
young  men,  and  never  permanent.  Even  an  open  rupture 
could  not  have  pushed  them  apart  so  rapidly  as  this  hollow 
external  routine  of  life. 

Joseph  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  visiting  Philip, 
whom  he  found  busy  in  forge  and  foundry.  "  This  would  be 
the  life  for  you  ! "  he  said :  "  we  deal  only  with  physical 
forces,  human  and  elemental :  we  direct  and  create  power, 
yet  still  obey  the  command  to  put  money  in  our  prirses." 

"  Is  that  one  secret  of  your  strength  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  Who  told  you  that  I  had  any  ?  " 

"  I  feel  it,"  said  Joseph ;  and  even  as  he  said  it  he  re- 
membered Julia's  unworthy  suspicion. 

"  Come  up  and  see  Madeline  a  moment,  and  the  home 
she  has  made  for  me.  We  get  on  veiy  well,  for  brother  and 
sister — especially  since  her  will  is  about  as  stubborn  as  mine." 

Madeline  was  very  bright  and  cheerful,  and  Joseph,  cer- 
tainly, saw  no  signs  of  a  stubborn  will  in  her  fair  face.  She 
was  very  simply  dressed,  and  busy  with  some  task  of 
needle- work,  which  she  did  not  lay  aside. 

"  You  might  pass  already  for  a  member  of  our  commu- 
nity," he  could  not  help  saying. 

"  I  think  your  most  democratic  farmers  will  accept  me," 
she  answered,  "  when  they  learn  that  I  am  Philip's  house- 
keeper.    The  only  dispute  we  have  had,  or  are  likely  to 
have,  is  in  relation  to  the  salary." 
8 


170  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

"  She  is  an  inconsistent  creature,  Joseph,"  said  Philip. 
"  I  was  obliged  to  offer  her  as  much  as  she  earned  by  her 
music-lessons  before  she  would  come  at  all,  and  now  slie 
can't  find  work  enough  to  balance  it." 

"  How  can  I,  Philip,  when  you  tempt  me  every  day 
with  walks  and  rides,  botany,  geology,  and  sketching  from 
nature  ?  " 

So  much  frank,  affectionate  confidence  showed  itself 
through  the  playful  gossip  of  the  two,  that  Joseph  was  at 
once  comforted  and  pained.  "  If  I  had  only  had  a  sister  !  " 
he  sighed  to  Philip,  as  they  walked  down  the  knoll. 

The  friends  took  the  valley  road,  Joseph  leading  his 
horse  by  the  bridle.  The  stream  was  full  to  its  banks,  and 
crystal  clear :  shoals  of  young  fishes  passed  like  drifted 
leaves  over  the  pebbly  ground,  and  the  fragrant  water- 
beetles  skimmed  the  s\n  face  of  the  eddies.  Overhead  the 
vaults  of  the  great  elms  and  sycamores  were  filled  with  the 
green,  delicious  illumination  of  the  tender  foliage.  It  was 
a  scene  and  a  season  for  idle  happiness. 

Yet  the  first  words  Philip  spoke,  after  a  long  silence, 
were :  "  May  I  speak  now  ?  "  There  was  infinite  love  and 
pity  in  his  voice.  He  took  Joseph  by  the  hand. 

"  Yes,"  the  latter  whispered. 

"  It  has  come,"  Philip  continued ;  "  you  cannot  hide  it 
from  yourself  any  longer.  My  pain  is  that  I  did  not  dare 
to  warn  you,  though  at  the  risk  of  losing  your  friendship. 
There  was  so  little  time — " 

"  You  did  try  to  warn  me,  Philip  !  I  have  recalled  your 
words,  and  the  trouble  in  your  face  as  you  spoke,  a  thou- 
sand times.  I  was  a  fool,  a  blind,  miserable  fool,  and  my 
folly  has  ruined  my  life  !  " 

"  Strange,"  said  Philip,  musingly,  "  that  only  a  perfectly 


Fini'XD.  171 

good  and  puve  nature  can  fall  into  surh  a  wretched  snare. 
And  yet  'Virtue  is  its  own  reward,'  is  dinned  into  our 
ears  !  It  is  Hell  for  a  single  fault  :  nay,  not  even  a  fault, 
an  innocent  mistake  !  Put  let  us  S"0  what  can  be  done  : 
is  there  no  common  ground  whereon  your  natures  can 
stand  together  ?  If  there  should  be  a  child — 

Joseph  shuddered.  "  Once  it  seamed  too  great,  too  won- 
derful a  hope,"  he  said,  "  but  now,  I  don't  dare  to  wish  for 
it.  Philip,  I  am  too  sorely  hurt  to  think  clearly  :  there  is 
nothing  to  do  but  to  wait.  It  is  a  miserable  kind  of  com- 
fort to  me  to  have  your  sympathy,  but  I  fear  you  cannot 
help  me." 

Philip  saw  that  he  could  bear  no  more :  his  face  was  pale 
to  the  lips  and  his  hands  trembled.  He  led  him  to  the  bank, 
sat  down  beside  him,  and  laid  his  arm  about  his  neck.  The 
silence  and  the  caress  were  more  soothing  to  Joseph  than 
any  words  ;  he  soon  became  calm,  and  remembered  an  im- 
portant part  of  his  errand,  which  was  to  acquaint  Philip 
with  the  oil  speculation,  and  to  ask  his  advice. 

They  discussed  the  matter  long  and  gravely.  "With  all  his 
questions,  and  the  somewhat  imperfect  information  which 
Joseph  was  able  to  give,  Philip  could  not  satisfy  himself 
whether  the  scheme  was  a  simple  swindle  or  a  well-con- 
sidered business  venture.  Two  or  three  of  the  names  were 
respectable,  but  the  chief  agent,  Kanuck,  was  unknown  to 
him ;  moreover,  Mr.  Blessing's  apparent  prominence  in 
the  undertaking  did  not  inspire  him  with  much  confidence. 

"  How  much  have  you  already  paid  on  the  stock  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Three  instalments,  which,  Mr.  Blessing  thinks,  is  all 
that  will  be  called  for.  However,  I  have  the  money  for  a 
fourth,  should  it  be  necessary.  He  writes  to  me  that  the 
stock  has  already  risen  a  hundred  per  cent,  in  value." 


17:2  .lOSK:1!!    AND    I: IS    FKDOXD. 

"  If  that  is  so,"  said  Philip,  "  let  me  advise  you  to  sell 
half  of  it,  at  once.  The  sum  received  will  cover  your  liabil- 
ities, and  the  half  you  retain,  as  a  venture,  -\vill  give  you 
no  further  anxiety." 

"  I  had  thought  of  that ;  yet  I  am  sure  that  my  father- 
in-law  will  oppose  such  a  step  with  all  his  might.  You 
must  know  him,  Philip;  tell  me,  frankly,  your  opinion  of 
his  character." 

"  Blessing  belongs  to  a  class  familiar  enough  to  me," 
Philip  answered ;  "  yet  I  doubt  whether  you  will  com- 
prehend it.  He  is  a  swaggering,  amiable,  magnificent 
adventurer ;  never  purposely  dishonest,  I  am  sure,  yet 
sometimes  engaged  in  transactions  that  would  not  bear 
much  scrutiny.  His  life  has  been  one  of  ups  and  downs. 
After  a  successful  speculation,  he  is  luxurious,  open-handed, 
and  absurdly  self-confident ;  his  success  is  soon  flung  away  : 
he  then  good-humoredly  descends  to  poverty,  because  he 
never  believes  it  can  last  long.  He  is  unreliable,  from  his 
over-sanguine  temperament ;  and  yet  this  very  temper- 
ament gives  him  a  certain  power  and  influence.  Some  of 
our  best  men  are  on  familiar  terms  with  him.  They  are  on 
their  guard  against  his  pecuniary  approaches,  they  laugh 
at  his  extravagant  schemes,  but  they  now  and  then  find 
him  useful.  I  heard  Gray,  the  editor,  once  speak  of  him  as 
a  man  '  filled  with  available  enthusiasms,'  and  I  guess  that 
phrase  hits  both  his  strength  and  his  weakness." 

On  the  whole,  Joseph  felt  rather  relieved  than  disquieted. 
The  heart  was  lighter  in  his  breast  as  he  moxinted  his  horse 
and  rode  homewards. 

Philip  slowly  walked  forwards,  yielding  his  mind  to 
thoughts  wherein  Joseph  was  an  important  but  not  the  prin- 
cipal figure.  Was  thei-e  a  positive  strength,  he  asked  him- 


self,  in  a  wider  practical  experience  of  life?  Did  such  ex- 
perience really  strengthen  the  basis  of  character  vhich  must 
support  a  man,  when  some  unexpected  moral  crisis  comes 
upon  him?  He  knew  that  he  seemed  strung,  to  Joseph  ;  but 
the  latter,  so  far,  was  bearing  his  terrible  test  with  a  patience 
drawn  from  some  source  of  elemental  power.  Joseph  had 
simply  been  ignorant :  hv  had  been  proud,  impatient,  and 
— he  now  confessed  to  himself — weakly  jealous.  In  both 
cases,  a  mistake  had  passed  beyond  the  plastic  stage  where 
life  may  still  be  remoulded  :  it  had  hardened  into  an  inexo- 
rable fate.  "What  was  to  be  the  end  of  it  all  ? 

A  light  footstep  interrupted  his  reflections,  lie  looked 
up,  and  almost  started,  on  finding  himself  face  to  face  with 
Mrs.  Hopeton. 

Her  face  was  flushed  from  her  walk  and  the  mellow 
warmth  of  the  afternoon.  She  held  a  bunch  of  wild- flowers, 
- — pink  azaleas,  delicate  sigillarias,  valerian,  and  scarlet 
painted-cup.  She  first  broke  the  silence  by  asking  after 
Madeline. 

"  Busy  with  some  important  sewing, — curtains,  I  fancy. 
She  is  becoming  an  inveterate  housekeeper,"  Philip  said. 

"  I  am  glad,  for  hex  sake,  that  she  is  here.  And  it  must 
be  very  pleasant  for  you,  after  all  your  wanderings." 

"I  must  look  on  it,  I  suppose,"  Philip  answered,  "  as  the 
only  kind  of  a  home  I  shall  ever  have, — while  it  lasts.  But 
Madeline's  life  must  not  be  mutilated  because  mine  happens 
to  be." 

The  warm  color  left  Mrs.  Ilopeton's  face.  She  strove  to 
make  her  voice  cold  and  steady,  as  she  said  :  "  I  am  sorry 
to  see  you  growing  so  bitter,  Mr.  Held." 

"I  don't  think  it  is  my  proper  nature,  Mrs.  Hopeton. 
But  you  startled  me  out  of  a  retrospect  which  had  exhaust- 


174:  JOSEPH   AND    HIS    FKIEND. 

ed  my  capacity  for  self-reproach,  and  was  about  to  become 
self-cursing.  There  is  no  bitterness  quite  equal  to  that  of 
seeing  how  weakly  one  has  thrown  away  an  irrecoverable 
fortune." 

She  stood  before  him,  silent  and  disturbed.  It  was  im- 
possible not  to  understand,  yet  it  seemed  equally  impossible 
to  answer  him.  She  gave  one  glance  at  his  earnest,  dark 
gray  eyes,  his  handsome  manly  face,  and  the  sprinkled 
glosses  of  sunshine  on  his  golden  hair,  and  felt  a  chill  strike 
to  her  heart.  She  moved  a  step,  as  if  to  end  the  inter- 
view. 

"  Only  one  moment,  Mrs.  Hopeton — Emily  !  "  Philip 
cried.  "  We  may  not  meet  again — thus — for  years.  I  will 
not  needlessly  recall  the  past.  I  only  mean  to  speak  of  my 
offence, — to  acknowledge  it,  and  exonerate  you  from  any 
share  in  the  misunderstanding  which — made  us  what  we 
are.  You  cannot  feel  the  burden  of  an  unpardoned  fault ; 
but  will  you  not  allow  me  to  lighten  mine  ?  " 

A  softer  change  came  over  her  stately  form.  Her  arm  re- 
laxed, and  the  wild-flowers  fell  upon  the  ground. 

"  I  was  wrong,  first,"  Philip  went  on,  "  in  not  frankly  con- 
fiding to  you  the  knowledge  of  a  boyish  illusion  and  dis- 
appointment. I  had  been  heartlessly  treated :  it  was  a  silly 
affair,  not  worth  the  telling  now ;  but  the  leaven  of  mistrust 
it  left  behind  was  not  fully  worked  out  of  my  nature.  Then, 
too,  I  had  private  troubles,  which  my  pride — sore,  just  then, 
from  many  a  trifling  prick,  at  which  I  should  now  laiigh — 
led  me  to  conceal.  I  need  not  go  over  the  appearances 
which  provoked  me  into  a  display  of  temper  as  unjust  as  it 
was  unmanly, — it  is  enough  to  say  that  all  circumstances 
combined  to  make  me  impatient,  suspicious,  fiercely  jealous. 
I  never  paused  to  reflect  that  you  could  not  know  the  series 


of  aggravations  v.-hicli  preceded  our  misunderstanding.  I 
did  not  guess  ho\v  far  I  was  giving  expression  to  them,  and 
unconsciously  transferring  to  you  the  ofl'ences  of  others. 
ZSTav,  I  exacted  a  completer  surrender  of  your  woman's 
pride,  because  a  woman  had  already  chosen  to  make  a  play- 
thing of  my  green  hoy-love.  There  is  no  use  in  speaking  of 
any  of  the  particulars  of  our  quarrel ;  for  J  confess  to  you 
that  I  was  recklessly,  miserably  wrong.  But  the  time  has 
come  when  you  can  afford  to  be  generous,  when  you  can 
allow  yourself  to  speak  my  forgiveness.  Xot  for  the 
sake  of  anything  I  might  have  been  to  you,  but  as  a 
true  woman,  dealing  with  her  brother-man,  I  ask  your  par- 
don !  " 

Mrs.  Hopeton  could  not  banish  the  memory  of  the  old 
tenderness  which  pleaded  for  Philip  in  her  heart.  He  had 
spoken  no  word  which  could  offend  or  alarm  her :  they  were 
safely  divided  by  a  gulf  which  might  never  be  bridged,  and 
perhaps  it  was  well  that  a  purely  human,  reconciliation 
should  now  clarify  what  was  turbid  in  the  past,  and  reunite 
them  by  a  bond  pure,  though  eternally  sad.  She  came  slow- 
ly towards  him,  and  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  All  is  not  only  pardoned,  Philip,"  she  said,  "  but  it  is 
now  doubly  my  duty  to  forget  it.  Do  not  suppose,  however, 
that  I  have  had  no  other  than  reproachful  memories.  My 
pride  was  as  unyielding  as  yours,  for  it  led  me  to  the  defiance 
which  you  could  not  then  endure.  I,  too,  was  haughty 
and  imperious.  I  recall  every  word  I  uttered,  and  I  know 
that  you  have  not  forgotten  them.  But  let  there  be  equal 
and  final  jxistice  between  us :  forget  my  words,  if  you  can, 
and  forgive  me  !  " 

Philip  took  her  hand,  and  held  it  softly  in  his  own.  No 
power  on  earth  could  have  prevented  their  eyes  from  meet- 


176  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FIJIKXn. 

ing.  Out  of  the  far-off  distance  of  all  dead  joys,  over  all 
abysses  of  fate,  the  sole  power  which  time  and  will  are  pow- 
erless to  tame,  took  swift  possession  of  their  natures. 
Philip's  eyes  were  darkened  and  softened  by  a  film  of  gath- 
ering tears :  he  cried  in  a  broken  voice  : — 

"  Yes,  pardon  !  — but  I  thought  pardon  might  be  peace. 
Forget?  Yes,  it  would  be  easy  to  forget  the  past,  if, — O 
Emily,  we  have  never  been  parted  until  now  ! " 

She  had  withdrawn  her  hand,  and  covered  her  face.  He 
saw,  by  the  convulsive  tremor  of  her  frame,  that  she  was 
fiercely  suppressing  her  emotion.  In  another  moment  she 
looked  up,  pale,  cold,  and  almost  defiant. 

"  Why  should  you  say  more  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Mutual 
forgiveness  is  our  duty,  and  there  the  duty  ends.  Leave  mo 
now !  " 

Philip  knew  that  he  had  betrayed  himself.  Not  daring 
to  speak  another  word  he  bowed  and  walked  rapidly  awav. 
Mrs.  Hopeton  stood,  with  her  hand  pressed  upon  her 
bosom,  until  he  had  disappeared  among  the  farther  trees : 
then  she  sat  down,  and  let  her  withheld  tears  flow 
freely. 

Presently  the  merry  whoops  and  calls  of  children  met  her 
ear.  She  gathered  together  the  fallen  flowers,  rose  and  took 
her  way  across  the  meadows  towards  a  little  stone  school- 
house,  at  the  foot  of  the  nearest  hill.  Lucy  Hender- 
son already  advanced  to  meet  her.  There  was  still  an 
hour  or  two  of  sunshine,  but  the  mellow,  languid  heat 
of  the  day  was  over,  and  the  breeze  winnowing  down 
the  valley  brought  with  it  the  smell  of  the  blossoming 
vernal  grass. 

The  two  women  felt  themselves  drawn  towards  each  other, 
though  neither  had  as  yet  divined  the  source  of  their  afiec- 


JOSEPH    AM)    ]!!.-    FFJEXIX  177 

tionate  instinct.  Xow,  looking  ujn-n  Lucy's  pure,  gently 
firm,  and  reliant  face,  Mrs.  Iloneton,  for  the  second  or  third 
time  in  her  life,  yielded  to  a  sudden,  powerful  impulse,  and 
said  :  >;  .Lucy,  I  foresee  that  [  shall  need  the  love  and  the 
trust  of  a  true  woman  :  where  shall  I  find  it  if  not  in  you?  '' 

';  If  mine  will  content  you,''  said  Luev. 

"  O  my  dear  !  "  Mrs.  llopeton  cried  ;  "  none  of  us  can 
stand  alone.  God  has  singular  trials  for  us,  sometimes,  and 
the  use  and  the  conquest  of  a  trouble  may  both  become  clear 
in  the  telling  of  it.  The  heart  can  wear  itself  out  with  its 
own  bitterness.  You  see,  1  force  my  confidence  upon  you, 
but  I  know  you  are  strong  to  receive  it." 

"  At  least,"  Lucy  answered,  gravely,  "  I  have  no  claim 
to  strength  unless  I  am  willing  to  have  it  tested." 

"  Then  let  me  make  the  severest  test  at  once  :  I  shall 
have  less  courage  if  I  delay.  Can  you  comprehend  the 
nature  of  a  woman's  trial,  when  her  heart  resists  her  duty  ?  " 

A  deep  blush  overspread  Lucy's  face,  but  she  forced  her- 
self to  meet  Mrs.  Hopeton's  gaze.  The  two  women  were 
silent  a  moment ;  then  the  latter  threw  her  arms  around 
Lucy's  neck  and  kissed  her. 

"  Let  us  walk  !  "  she  said.  "  "We  shall  both  find  the  words 
we  need." 

They  moved  away  over  the  fragrant,  shining  meadows. 
Down  the  valley,  at  the  foot  of  the  blue  cape  which  wooed 
their  eyes,  and  perhaps  suggested  to  their  hearts  that  mys- 
terious sense  of  hope  which  lies  in  landscape  distances, 
Elwood  Withers  was  directing  his  gang  of  workmen.  Over 
the  eastern  hill,  Joseph  Asten  stood  among  his  fields,  hardly 
recognizing  their  joyous  growth.  The  smoke  of  Philip's 
forge  rose  above  the  trees  to  the  northward.  So  many  dis- 
appointed hearts,  so  manv  thwarted  lives !  What  strand 
8* 


178  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIE.VD. 

shall  be  twisted  out  of  the  broken  threads  of  these  desti- 
nies, thus  drawn  so  near  to  each  other  ?  What  new 
forces  - —  fatal  or  beneficent — shall  be  developed  from  these 
elements  ? 

Mr.  Hopeton,  riding  homewards  along  the  highway,  said  to 
himself :  "  It's  a  pleasant  country,  but  what  slow,  humdrum 
lives  the  people  lead  !  " 


JOSEPH    AM)    HIS    FRIEND.  179 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 


"  I  HAVE  a  plan,"  said  Julia,  a  week  or  two  later.  "  Can 
you  guess  it  ?  No,  I  think  not ;  yet  you  might  !  O,  how 
lovely  the  light  falls  on  your  hair :  it  is  perfect  satin  !  " 

She  had  one  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  ran  the  fingers  of 
the  other  lightly  through  his  brown  locks.  Her  face,  spark- 
ling all  over  with  a  witching  fondness,  was  lifted  towards  his. 
It  was  the  climax  of  an  amiable  mood  which  had  lasted 
three  days. 

What  young  man  can  resist  a  playful,  appealing  face,  a 
soft,  caressing  touch  ?  Joseph  smiled  as  he  asked, — 

"  Is  it  that  I  shall  wear  my  hair  iipon  my  shoulders,  or 
that  we  shall  sow  plaster  on  the  clover-field,  as  old  Bishop 
advised  you  the  other  day  ?  " 

"  Now  you  are  making  fun  of  my  interest  in  farming ;  but 
wait  another  year  !  I  am  trying  earnestly  to  understand  it,  but 
only  so  that  ornament — beauty — what  was  the  word  in  those 
lines  you  read  last  night? — may  grow  out  of  use.  That's 
it — Beauty  out  of  Use !  I  know  I've  bored  you  a  little 
sometimes — just  a  little,  now,  confess  it ! — with  all  my  ques- 
tions ;  but  this  is  something  different.  Can't  you  think  of 
anything  that  would  make  our  home,  O  so  much  more  beau- 
tiful ?  " 

"  A  grove  of  palm-trees  at  the  top  of  the  garden  ?  Or  a 
lake  in  front,  with  marble  steps  leading  down  to  the  water?" 

"  You  perverse  Joseph  !     No  :  something  possible,  some- 


ISO  .TOSHI'II    AND    HIS    FRIK.YT). 

thing  practicable,  somctliing  handsome,  something  profitable! 

Or,  are  you  so  old-fashioned  that  you  think  we  must  drudge 
for  thirty  years,  and  only  take  our  pleasure  after  we  grow 
rheumatic  ?  " 

Joseph  looked  at  her  with  a  puzzled,  yet  cheerful  face. 

"  You  don't  understand  me  yet !  "  she  exclaimed.  "And 
indeed,  indeed,  I  dread  to  tell  you,  for  one  reason  :  you  have 
such  a  tender  regard  for  old  associations, — not  that  I'd  have 
it  otherwise,  if  I  could.  I  like  it :  I  trust  I  have  the  same 
feeling;  yet  a  little  sentiment  sometimes  interferes  practi- 
cally with  the  improvement  of  our  lives." 

Joseph's  curiosity  was  aroused.  "  What  do  you  mean, 
Julia?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  !  "  she  cried  ;  "  I  will  not  tell  you  until  I  have  read 
part  of  pa's  letter,  which  came  this  afternoon.  Take  the 
arm-chair,  and  don't  interrupt  me." 

She  seated  herself  on  the  window-sill  and  opened  the  let- 
ter. "  I  saw,"  she  said,  "  how  uneasy  you  felt  when  the  call 
came  for  the  fourth  instalment  of  ten  per  cent,  on  the  Ama- 
ranth shares,  especially  after  I  had  so  much  difficulty  in  per- 
suading you  not  to  sell  the  half.  It  surprised  me,  although 
I  knew  that,  where  pa  is  concerned,  there's  a  good  reason  for 
everything.  So  I  wrote  to  him  the  other  day,  and  this  is 
what  he  says, — you  remember,  Kanuck  is  the  company's 
agent  on  the  spot:  — 

"  '  Tell  Joseph  that  in  matters  of  finance  there's  often  a 
wheel  within  a  wheel.  Blenkinsop,  of  the  Chowder  Com- 
pany, managed  to  get  a  good  grab  of  our  shares  through  a 
third  party,  of  whom  we  had  not  the  slightest  suspicion.  I 
name  no  name  at  present,  from  motives  of  prudence.  We 
only  discovered  the  circumstance  after  the  third  party  left 
for  Europe.  Looking  upon  the  Chowder  as  a  rival,  it  is  our 


1S1 

desire,  of  course,  to  extract  this  entering  wedge  before  it  has 
been  thrust  into  our  vitals,  and  we  can  only  accomplish  the 
end  by  still  keeping  secret  the  discovery  of  the  torpedoes  (an. 
additional  expense,  I  might  remark),  and  calling  for  fresh 
instalments  from  all  the  stockholders.  Blenkinsop,  not  be- 
ing within  the  inside  ring, — and  no  possibility  of  It  is  getting 
in  ! — will  naturally  see  only  the  blue  of  disappointment 
where  we  see  the  rose  of  realized  expectations.  Alreadv,  so 
Ivaiiuck  writes  to  me,  negotiations  are  on  foot  which  will  re- 
lieve onr  Amaranth  of  this  parasitic  growth,  and  a  few  weeks — 
days — hours,  in  fact,  may  enable  its  to  explode  and  triumph ! 
I  was  offered,  yesterday,  by  one  of  our  shrewdest  operators, 
who  has  been  silently  watching  us,  ten  shares  of  the  Sinne- 
mahoning  Hematite  for  eight  of  ours.  Think  of  that, — the 
Sinuemahoning  Hematite  !  Xo  better  stock  in  the  market,  if 
you  remember  the  quotations  !  Explain  the  significance  of 
the  figures  to  your  husband,  and  let  him  see  that  he  has — • 
but  no,  I  will  restrain  myself  and  make  no  estimate.  I  will 
only  mention,  under  the  seal  of  the  profoundest  secrecy,  that 
the  number  of  shafts  now  sinking  (or  being  sunk)  will  give 
an  enormous  flowing  capacity  when  the  electric  spark  fires 
the  mine,  and  I  should  not  wonder  if  our  shares  then  soared 
high  over  the  pinnacles  of  all  previous  speculation  ! ' 

"  No,  nor  I !  "  Julia  exclaimed,  as  she  refolded  the  letter ; 
"  it  is  certain, — positively  certain  !  I  have  never  known 
the  Sinnemahoning  Hematite  to  be  less  than  147.  What  do 
you  say,  Joseph  ?  " 

"  I  hope  it  may  be  time,"  he  answered.  "  I  can't  feel  so 
certain,  while  an  accident — the  discovery  of  the  torpedo-plan, 
for  instance — might  change  the  prospects  of  the  Amaranth. 
It  will  be  a  great  relief  when  the  time  comes  to  '  realize,'  as 
your  father  says." 


182  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FJliKXD. 

"  \rou  only  feel  so  because  it  is  your  first,  experience  ;  but 
for  your  sake  I  will  consent  that  it  shall  be  the  last.  We 
shall  scarcely  need  any  more  than  this  will  bring  us  ;  for,  as 
pa  says,  a  mere  competence  in  the  city  is  a  splendid  fortune 
in  the  country.  You  need  leisure  for  books  and  travel  and 
society,  and  you  shall  have  it.  Now,  let  iis  make  a  place  for 
both  !  " 

Thereupon  she  showed  him  how  the  parlor  and  rear  bed- 
room might  be  thrown  into  one ;  where  there  were  alcoves 
for  bookcases  and  space  for  a  piano  ;  how  a  new  veranda 
might  be  added  to  the  western  end  of  the  house  ;  how  the 
plastering  might  be  renewed,  a  showy  cornice  supplied,  and 
an  air  of  elegant  luxury  given  to  the  new  apartment.  Jo- 
seph saw  and  listened,  conscious  at  once  of  a  pang  at  chang- 
ing the  ancient  order  of  things,  and  a  temptation  to  behold 
a  more  refined  comfort  in  its  place.  He  only  asked  to  post- 
pone the  work  ;  but  Julia  pressed  him  so  closely,  with  such 
a  multitude  of  unanswerable  reasons,  that  he  finally  con- 
sented to  let  a  mechanic  look  at  the  house,  and  make  an  esti- 
mate of  the  expense. 

In  such  cases,  the  man  who  deliberates  is  lost. 

His  consent  once  reluctantly  exacted,  Julia  insisting  that 
she  would  take  the  whole  charge  of  directing  the  work,  a 
beginning  was  made  without  delay,  and  in  a  few  days  the 
ruin  was  so  complete  that  the  restoration  became  a  matter 
of  necessity. 

Julia  kept  her  word  only  too  faithfully.  With  a  lively, 
playful  manner  in  the  presence  of  the  workmen,  but  with  a 
cold,  inflexible  obstinacy  when  they  were  alone,  she  departed 
from  the  original  plan,  adding  showy  and  expensive  features, 
every  one  of  which,  Joseph  presently  saw,  was  devised  to 
surpass  the  changes  made  by  the  Hopetons  in  their  new  res- 


153 

idenco.  iris  remonstrances  produced  no  effect,  and  lie  was 
precluded  from  a  practical  interference  by  the  fear  of  the, 
workmen,  guessing  his  domestic  trouble.  Thus  the  days 
dragged  on.  and  the  breach  •widened  without  an  eilort  on 
either  side  to  heal  it. 

The  secret  of  her  temporary  fondness  gave  him  a  sense  of 
positive  disgust  when  it  arose  in  his  memory.  lie  HOW  sus- 
pected a  selfish  purpose  in  her  caresses,  and  sought  to  give 
her  no  chance  of  repeating  them,  but  in  the  company  of  oth- 
ers he  was  forced  to  eiidiu-e  a  tenderness  which,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  find,  still  half  deceived  him,  as  it  wholly  deceived 
his  neighbors.  He  saw,  too, — and  felt  himself  powerless  to 
change  the  impression, — that  Julia's  popularity  increased 
with  her  knowledge  of  the  people,  while  their  manner  to- 
wards him  was  a  shade  less  frank  and  cordial  than  formerly. 
He  knew  that  the  changes  in  his  home  were  so  much  need- 
less extravagance,  to  them  ;  and  that  Julia's  oft-repeated 
phrase  (always  accompanied  with  a  loving  look),  "  Joseph  is 
making  the  old  place  so  beautiful  for  me  !  "  increased  their 
mistrust,  while  seeming  to  exalt  him  as  a  devoted  husband. 

It  is  not  likely  that  she  specially  intended  this  result ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  somewhat  exaggerated  its  char- 
acter. Her  object  was  simply  to  retain  her  growing  ascend- 
ency :  within  the  limits  where  her  peculiar  faculties  had 
been  exercised  she  was  nearly  perfect ;  but  she  was  indiffer- 
ent to  tracing  tlie  consequences  of  her  actions  beyond  those 
limits.  When  she  ascertained  Mr.  Chaffinch's  want  of  faith 
in  Joseph's  entire  piety,  she  became  more  regular  in  her  at- 
tendance at  his  church,  not  so  much  to  prejudice  her  hus- 
band by  the  contrast,  as  to  avoid  the  suspicion  which  he  had 
incurred.  To  Joseph,  however,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  de 
ception,  these  actions  seemed  either  hostile  or  heartless ;  he 


184:  JOSKl'II    A  XI)    ]!IS    FJMF.XD. 

was  repelled  from  the  clearer  knowledge  of  a  nature  so  for- 
eign to  his  own.  So  utterly  foreign :  yet  how  near  beyond 
all  others  it  had  once  seemed  ! 

It  was  not  a  jealousy  of  the  authority  she  assumed  which 
turned  his  heart  from  her:  it  was  the  revelation  of  a  shal- 
lowness  and  selfishness  not  at  all  rare  in  the  class  from 
which  she  came,  but  which  his  pure,  guarded  youth  had 
never  permitted  him  to  suspect  in  any  human  being.  A 
man  familiar  with  men  and  women,  if  he  had  been  caught 
in  such  toils,  would  have  soon  discovered  some  manner 
of  controlling  her  nature,  for  the  very  shrewdest  and  fals- 
est have  their  vulnerable  side.  It  gave  Joseph,  however, 
so  much  keen  spiritual  pain  to  encounter  her  in  her 
true  character,  that  such  a  course  was  simply  impos- 
sible. 

Meanwhile  the  days  went  by ;  the  expense  of  labor  and 
material  had  already  doubled  the  estimates  made  by  the 
mechanics ;  bills  were  presented  for  payment,  and  nothing 
was  heard  from  the  Amaranth.  Money  was  a  necessity, 
and  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  obtain  a  temporary  loan. 
at  a  county  town,  the  centre  of  transactions  for  all  the  debt- 
ors and  creditors  of  the  neighboring  country.  It  was  a  new 
and  disagreeable  experience  for  Joseph  to  appear  in  the 
character  of  a  borrower,  and  he  adopted  it  most  reluctantly ; 
yet  the  reality  was  a  greater  trial  than  he  had  suspected. 
He  found  that  the  most  preposterous  stories  of  his  extrava- 
gance were  afloat.  He  was  transforming  his  house  into  a 
castle :  he  had  made,  lost,  and  made  again  a  large  fortune 
in  petroleum  ;  he  had  married  a  wealthy  wife  and  squander- 
ed her  money ;  he  drove  out  in  a  carriage  with  six  white 
horses ;  he  was  becoming  irregular  in  his  habits  and  hereti- 
cal in  his  religious  views ;  in  short,  such  marvellous  powers 


ND  ins  FKH::;D.  185 

of  invention  had  been  exercised  tliat  tlie  Arab  story-tellers 
were  surpassed  by  the-  members  of  that  quiet,  sluggish  com 
munity. 

It  required  all  his  self-control  to  meet  the  suspicions  of 
the  money-agents,  and  convince  them  of  the  true  state  of 
his  circumstances.  The  loan  was  obtained,  but  after  such  a 
wear  and  tear  of  flesh  and  spirit  as  made  it  seem  a  double 
burden. 

When  he  reached  home,  in  the  afternoon,  Julia  instantly 
saw,  by  his  face,  that  all  had  not  gone  right.  A  slight  ef- 
fort, however,  enabled  her  to  say  carelessly  and  cheerfully, — - 

"  Have  you  broiight  me  my  supplies,  dear  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  curtly. 

"  Here  is  a  letter  from  pa,"  she  then  said.  "  I  opened  it, 
because  I  knew  what  the  subject  must  be.  But  if  you're 
tired,  pray  don't  read  it  now,  for  then  you  may  be  impatient. 
There's  a  little  more  delay." 

"  Then  I'll  not  delay  to  know  it,"  he  said,  taking  the  let- 
ter from  her  hand.  A  printed  slip,  calling  upon  the  stock- 
holders of  the  Amaranth  to  pay  a  fifth  instalment,  fell  out 
of  the  envelope.  Accompanying  it  there  was  a  hasty  note 
from  B.  Blessing :  "  Don't  be  alarmed,  my  dear  son-in-law  ! 
Probably  a  mere  form.  Blenkinsop  still  holds  on,  but  we 
think  this  will  bring  him  at  once.  If  it  don't,  we  shall  very 
likely  have  to  go  on  with  him,  even  if  it  obliges  us  to  unite 
the  Amaranth  and  the  Chowder.  In  any  case,  we  shall  ford 
or  bridge  this  little  Rubicon  within  a  fortnight.  Have  the 
money  ready,  if  convenient,  but  do  not  forward  unless  I 
give  the  word.  We  hear,  through  third  parties,  that  Clem- 
entina (who  is  now  at  Long  Branch)  receives  much  atten- 
tion from  Mr.  Spelter,  a  man  of  immense  wealth,  but,  I  re- 
gret to  say,  no  refinement." 


18G  JOSEPH    AND    JITS    FKIKXD. 

Joseph  smiled  grimly  when  he  finished  the  note.  "  Is 
there  never  to  be  an  end  of  humbug  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  There,  now  !  "  cried  Julia;  "I  knew  you'd  be  impa- 
tient. You  are  so  unaccustomed  to  great  operations. 
Why,  the  Muchacho  Land  Grant — I  remember  it,  because 
pa  sold  out  just  at  the  wrong  time — hung  on  for  seven 
years !  " 

e:  D —  curse  the  Muchacho  Land  Grant,  and  the  Ama- 
ranth too  !  " 

"  Are  n't  you  ashamed  !  "  exclaimed  Julia,  taking  on  a 
playful  air  of  offence  ;  "  but  you're  tired  and  hungry,  poor 
fellow  !  "  Therewith  she  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders, 
and  raised  herself  on  tiptoe  to  kiss  him. 

Joseph,  unable  to  control  his  sudden  instinct,  swiftly 
turned  away  his  head. 

"  O  you  wicked  husband,  you  deserve  to  be  punished  !  " 
she  cried,  giving  him  what  was  meant  to  be  a  light  tap  oa 
the  cheek. 

It  was  a  light  tap,  certainly ;  but  perhaps  a  little  of  the 
annoyance  which  she  banished  from  her  face  had  lodged, 
unconsciously,  in  her  fingers.  They  left  just  sting  enough 
to  rouse  Joseph's  heated  blood.  He  started  back  a  step, 
and  looked  at  her  with  naming  eyes. 

"  No  more  of  that,  Julia  !  I  know,  now,  how  much  your 
arts  are  worth.  I  am  getting  a  vile  name  in  the  neighbor- 
hood,— losing  my  property, — losing  my  own  self-respect, — • 
because  I  have  allowed  yoxi  to  lead  me  !  Will  you  be  con- 
tent with  what  you  have  done,  or  must  you  go  on  until  my 
ruin  is  complete  ?  " 

Before  he  had  finished  speaking  she  had  taken  rapid 
counsel  with  herself,  and  decided.  "  Oh,  oh  !  such  words 
to  me  !  "  she  groaned,  hiding  her  face  between  her  hands. 


1ST 

"  I  never  thought  yon  could  be  so  cruel  !  I  had  such  pleas- 
ure in  seeing  you  rich  and  free,  in  trying  to  make  your 
home  beautiful  ;  and  now  this  Hide  delay,  which  no  busi- 
ness man  would  think  anvthiie'  of.  seems  to  change  your 

^  CJ  /  o         «. 

very  nature  !  But  I  will  not  think  it's  your  true  self  : 
something  has  worried  you  to-day, — you  have  heard  some 
foolish  story — 

"  It  is  not  the  worry  of  to-day,"  he  interrupted,  in  haste 
to  state  his  whole  grievance,  before  his  weak  heart  had 
time  to  soften  again, — "  it  is  the  worry  of  months  past  !  It 
is  because  I  thought  you  true  and  kind-hearted,  and  I  find 
you  selfish  and  hypocritical  !  It  is  very  well  to  lead  me 
into  serious  expenses,  while  so  much  is  at  stake,  and  now 
likely  to  be  lost, — it  is  very  well  to  make  my  home  beauti- 
ful, especially  when  you  can  outshine  Mrs.  Hopetoii !  It  is 
easy  to  adapt  yourself  to  the  neighbors,  and  keep  on  the 
right  side  of  them,  no  matter  how  much  your  husband's 
character  may  suffer  in  the  process  !  " 

"  That  will  do  !  "  said  Julia,  suddenly  becoming  rigid. 
She  lifted  her  head,  and  apparently  wiped  the  tears  from 
her  eyes.  "  A  little  more  and  it  would  be  too  much  for 
even  me  !  What  do  I  care  for  '  the  neighbors  '  ?  persons 
•whose  ideas  and  tastes  and  habits  of  life  are  so  different 
from  mine  ?  I  have  endeavored  to  be  friendly  with  them 
for  your  sake  :  I  have  taken  special  pains  to  accommodate 
myself  to  their  notions,  just  because  I  intended  they  should 
justify  you  in  choosing  me  !  I  believed — for  you  told  me 
so — that  there  was  no  calculation  in  love,  that  money  was 
dross  in  comparison ;  and  how  could  I  imagine  that  you 
would  so  soon  put  up  a  balance  and  begin  to  weigh  the 
two  ?  Am  I  your  wife  or  your  slave  ?  Have  I  an  equal 
share  in  what  is  yours,  or  am  I  here  merely  to  increase  it  ? 


188  JOSEPH    AM)    HIS    FKIKXD. 

If  there  is  to  be  a  question  of  dollars  and  cents  between  us, 
pray  have  my  allowance  fixed,  so  that  I  may  not  overstep 
it,  and  may  save  myself  from  such  reproaches  !  I  knew 
you  would  be  disappointed  in.  pa's  letter  :  I  have  been  anx- 
ious and  uneasy  since  it  came,  through  my  sympathy  with 
you,  and  was  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  that  might  relieve 
your  mind  ;  and  now  you  seem  to  be  full  of  unkindness  and 
injustice  !  What  shall  I  do,  O  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

She  threw  herself  upon  a  sofa,  weeping  hysterically. 

"  Julia  !  "  he  cried,  both  shocked  and  startled  by  her 
words,  "  you  purposely  misunderstand  me.  Think  how  con- 
stantly I  have  yielded  to  you,  against  my  own  better  judg- 
ment !  When  have  you  considered  my  wishes  ?  " 

"  When  ?  "  she  repeated  :  then,  addressing  the  cushion 
with  a  hopeless,  melancholy  air,  "  he  asks,  when  !  How 
could  I  misunderstand  you  ?  your  words  were  as  plain  as 
daggers.  If  you  were  not  aware  how  sharp  they  were,  call 
them  back  to  your  mind  when  these  mad,  unjust  suspicions 
have  left  you  !  I  trusted  you  so  perfectly,  I  was  looking 
forward  to  such  a  happy  future,  and  now — now,  all  seems  so 
dark  !  It  is  like  a  flash  of  lightning  :  I  am  weak  and  giddy  : 
leave  me, — I  can  bear  no  more  !  " 

She  covered  her  face,  and  sobbed  wretchedly. 

"I  am  satisfied  tha.t  you  are  not  as  ignorant  as  you  pro- 
fess to  be,"  was  all  Joseph  could  say,  as  he  obeyed  her  com- 
mand, and  left  the  room.  He  was  vanquished,  he  knew, 
and  a  little  confused  by  his  wife's  unexpected  way  of  taking 
his  charges  in  flank  instead  of  meeting  them  in  front,  as  a 
man  would  have  done.  Could  she  be  sincere  ?  he  asked 
himself.  Was  she  really  so  ignorant  of  herself,  as  to  believe 
all  that  she  had  uttered  ?  There  seemed  to  be  not  the 
shadow  of  hypocrisy  in  her  grief  and  indignation.  Her 


tears  were  real :  then  why  not  h  >r  .smiles  and  caresses  ?  Ei- 
ther she  was  horribly,  incredibly  false, — worse  than  he 
dared  dream  her  TO  be, — or  so  fatally  unconscious  of  her  na- 
ture that  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  ever  enlighten 
her.  One  thing  only  was  certain  :  there  was  now  110  con- 
fidence between  them,  and  there  might  never  be  again. 

He  walked  slowly  forth  from  the  house,  seeing  nothing, 
and  unconscious  whither  his  feet  were  leading  him. 


190  JOSEni    AND    I1IS    FKIEND. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

OX    THE    RAILROAD    TRACK. 

STILL  walking,  with  bent  head,  and  a  brain  which  vainly 
strove  to  work  its  way  to  clearness  through  the  perplexities 
of  his  heart,  Joseph  went  on.  When,  wearied  at  last, 
though  not  consciously  calmer,  he  paused  and  looked  about 
him,  it  was  like  waking  from  a  dream.  Some  instinct  had 
guided  him  on  the  way  to  Philip's  forge  :  the  old  road  had 
been  moved  to  accommodate  the  new  branch  railway,  and  a 
rapid  ring  of  hammers  came  up  from  the  embankment  below. 
It  was  near  the  point  of  the  hill  where  Lucy's  schoolhouse 
stood,  and  even  as  he  looked  she  came,  accompanied  by  her 
scholars,  to  watch  the  operation  of  laying  the  track.  El- 
wood  Withers,  hale,  sunburnt,  full  of  lusty  life,  walked  along 
the  sleepers  directing  the  workmen. 

"  He  was  right, — only  too  right !  "  muttered  Joseph  to 
himself.  "  Why  could  I  not  see  with  his  eyes  ?  '  It's  the 
bringing  up,'  he  would  say;  but  that  is  not  all.  I  have 
been  an  innocent,  confiding  boy,  and  thought  that  years  and 
acres  had  made  me  a  man.  O,  she  understood  me — she  un- 
derstands me  now ;  but  in  spite  of  her,  God  helping  me,  I 
shall  yet  be  a  man." 

Elwood  ran  down  the  steep  side  of  the  embankment, 
greeted  Lucy,  and  helped  her  to  the  top,  the  children  follow- 
ing with  whoops  and  cries. 

"  Would  it  have  been  different,"  Joseph  further  solilo- 
quized, "  if  Lucy  and  I  had  loved  and  married  ?  It  is 


hardly  treating  Ehvood  fairly  to  suppose  such  a  tiling,  vrt 
• — a  year  ago — I  might  have  loved  her.  [t  is  bettor  as  it  is  : 
1  should  have  stepped  upon  a  true  man's  heart.  Have  they 
dra\vn  nearer?  and  if  so,  docs  he,  with  his  sturdier  nature, 
his  sxiver  knowledge,  find  no  ilaw  in  her  perfections  ?  " 

A  morbid  curiosity  to  watch  the  two  suddenly  came  upon 
him.  He  clambered  over  the  fence,  crossed  the  narrow  strip 
of  meadow,  and  mounted  the  embankment.  Elwood's  back 
was  towards  him.  and  he  was  just  saying:  "It  all  conies  of 
taking  an  interest  in  what  your're  doing.  The  practical 
part  is  easy  enough,  when  you  once  have  the  principles.  [ 
can  manage  the  theodolite  already,  but  I  need  a  little  show- 
ing when  I  come  to  the  calculations.  Somehow,  I  never 
cared  much  about  study  before,  but  here  it's  all  applied  as 
soon  as  you've  learned  it,  and  that  fixes  it,  like,  in  your  head." 

Lucy  was  listening  with  an  earnest,  friendly  interest  on 
her  face.  She  scarcely  saw  Joseph  until  he  stood  before  her. 
After  the  first  slight  surprise,  her  manner  towards  him  was 
quiet  and  composed :  Elwood's  eyes  were  bright,  and  there 
was  a  fresh  intelligence  in  his  appearance.  The  habit  of 
command  had  already  given  him  a  certain  dignity. 

"  How  can  _Tget  knowledge  which  may  be  applied  as  soon 
as  learned  ?  "  Joseph  asked,  endeavoring  to  assume  the  man- 
ner furthest  from  his  feelings.  "  I'm  still  at  the  foot  of  the 
class,  Lucy,"  he  added,  turning  to  her. 

"  How?  "  Elwood  replied.  "  I  should  say  by  going  around 
the  world  alone.  That  would  be  about  the  same  for  you  as 
what  these  ten  miles  I'm  overseeing  are  to  me.  A  little 
goes  a  great  way  with  me,  for  I  can  only  pick  up  one  thing 
at  a  time." 

"  What  kind  of  knowledge  are  you  looking  for,  Joseph  ?  " 
Lucy  gravely  asked. 


102  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FRTKND. 

"  Of  myself,"  said  he,  and  his  face  grew  dark. 

"  That's  a  true  word  !  "  Ehvood  involuntarily  exclaimed. 
He  then  caught  Lucy's  eye,  and  awkwardly  added :  "  It's 
about  what  we  all  want,  I  take  it." 

Joseph  recovered  himself  in  a,  moment,  and  proposed  look- 
ing over  the  work.  They  walked  slowly  along  the  embank- 
ment, listening  to  Elwood's  account  of  what  had  been  done 
and  what  was  yet  to  do,  when  the  Hopeton  carriage  came 
up  the  highway,  near  at  hand.  Mrs.  Hopeton  sat  in  it 
alone. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you,  Lucy,"  she  called.  "  If  you  are 
going  towards  the  cutting,  I  will  join  you  there." 

She  sent  the  coachman  home  with  the  carriage,  and  walked 
with  them  on  the  track.  Joseph  felt  her  presence  as  a  re- 
lief, but  Elwood  confessed  to  himself  that  he  was  a  little  dis- 
turbed by  the  steady  glance  of  her  dark  eyes.  He  had 
already  overcome  his  regret  at  the  interruption  of  his  rare 
and  welcome  chance  of  talking  with  Lucy,  but  then  Joseph 
knew  his  heart,  while  this  stately  lady  looked  as  if  she  were 
capable  of  detecting  what  she  had  no  right  to  know.  Never- 
theless, she  was  Lucy's  friend,  and  that  fact  had  great  weight 
with  Elwood. 

"  It's  rather  a  pity  to  cut  into  the  hills  and  bank  up  the 
meadows  in  this  way,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  And  to  disturb  my  school  with  so  much  hammering," 
Lucy  rejoined;  "  when  the  trains  come  I  must  retreat." 

"  None  too  soon,"  said  Mrs.  Hopeton.  "  You  are  not 
strong,  Lucy,  and  the  care  of  a  school  is  too  much  for  you." 

Elwood  thanked  her  with  a  look,  before  he  knew  what  he 
was  about. 

"  After  all,"  said  Joseph,  "  why  shouldn't  nature  be  cut 
up  ?  I  suppose  everything  was  given  up  to  us  to  use,  and 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEND.  103 

the  mniv  profic  the  better  the  use,  seems  to  be  the  rule  of 
the  world.  '  Beauty  grows  out  of  Use,'  you  know.'' 

His  tone  was  sharp  and  cynical,  and  grated  unpleasantly 
on  Lucy's  sensitive  ear. 

"  I  believe  it  is  a  i  ulf  in  art,"  said  Mrs.  Hopeton,  "  that 
mere  ornament,  for  ornament's  sake,  is  not  allowed.  It 
must  always  seem  to  answer  some  purpose,  to  have  a  neces- 
sity for  its  existence.  But,  011  the  other  hand,  what  is  ne- 
cessary should  be  beautiful,  if  possible." 

"  A  loaf  of  bread,  for  instance,"  suggested  Elwood. 

They  all  laughed  at  this  illustration,  and  the  conversation 
took  a  lighter  turn.  By  this  time  they  had  entered  the  nar- 
rower part  of  the  valley,  and  on  passing  around  a  sharp 
curve  of  the  track  found  themselves  face  to  face  with  Philip^ 
and  Madeline  Held. 

If  Mrs.  Hopeton's  heart  beat  more  rapidly  at  the  unex- 
pected meeting,  she  preserved  her  cold,  composed  bearing. 
Madeline,  bright  and  joyous,  was  the  unconscious  agent  of 
unconstraint,  in  whose  presence  each  of  the  others  felt  im- 
mediately free. 

"  Two  inspecting  committees  at  once  !  "  cried  Philip.  "  It 
is  well  for  you,  Withers,  that  you  didn't  locate  the  line.  My 
sister  and  I  have  already  found  several  unnecessary  curves 
and  culverts." 

"  And  we  have  found  a  great  deal  of  use  and  no  beauty," 
Lucy  answered. 

"  Beauty  !  "  exclaimed  Madeline.  "  What  is  more  beau- 
tiful than  to  see  one's  groceries  delivered  at  one's  very  door? 
Or  to  have  the  opera  and  the  picture-gallery  brought  within  two 
hours'  distance  ?  How  far  are  we  from  a  lemon,  Philip  ?  " 

"  You  were  a  lemon,  Mad,  in  your  vegetable,  pre-human 

state  ;  and  you  are  still  acid  and  agreeable." 
9 


194  JOSEPH    AKD    HIS    FKIKND. 

"  Sweets  to  the  sweet  !  "  ,she  gayly  cried.  "  And  what, 
pray,  was  Miss  Henderson  ?  " 

"  Don't  spare  me,  Mr.  Held,"  said  Lucy,  as  he  looked  at 
her  with  a  little  hesitation. 

"  An  apple." 

"  And  Mrs.  Hopeton  ?  " 

"  A  date-palm,"  said  Philip,  fixing  his  eyes  iipon  her  face. 

She  did  not  look  up,  but  an  expression  which  he  could 
not  interpret  just  touched  her  lips  and  faded. 

"  Now,  it's  your  turn,  Miss  Held,"  Elwood  remarked  : 
"  what  were  we  men  ?  " 

"  O,  Philip  a  prickly  pear,  of  course  ;  and  you,  well,  some 
kind  of  a  nut ;  and  Mr.  Asten — " 

"  A  cabbage,"  said  Joseph. 

"  What  vanity  !  Do  you  imagine  that  you  are  all  head, 
— or  that  your  heart  is  in  your  head  ?  Or  that  you  keep  the 
morning  dew  longer  than  the  rest  of  us  ?  " 

"  It  might  well  be,"  Joseph  answered ;  and  Madeline  felt 
her  arm  gently  pinched  by  Philip,  from  behind.  She  had 
tact  enough  not  to  lower  her  pitch  of  gayety  too  suddenly, 
but  her  manner  towards  Joseph  became  grave  and  gentle. 
Mrs.  Hopeton  said  but  little  :  she  looked  upon  the  circling 
hills,  as  if  studying  their  summer  beauty,  while  the  one  de- 
sire in  her  heart  was  to  be  away  from  the  spot,: — away  from 
Philip's  haunting  eyes. 

After  a  little  while,  Philip  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  her 
feeling.  He  left  his  place  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  track, 
took  Joseph's  arm  and  led  him  a  little  aside  from  the  group. 

"  Philip,  I  want  you  !  "  Joseph  whispered ;  "  but  no,  not 
quite  yet.  There  is  no  need  of  coming  to  you  in  a  state  of 
confusion.  In  a  day  or  two  more  I  shall  have  settled  a  lit- 
tle." 


"  You  are  right,"  said  Philip  :  "  there  is  no  opiate  like 
time,  be  there  never  so  little  of  it.  I  felt  the  fever  of  your 
head  in  your  hand.  Don't  come  to  me,  until  you  feel  that 
it  is  the  one  thing  which  must  be  done  !  I  think  you  know 
why  I  say  so." 

"  I  do  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed.  '•  I  am  just  now  more  of  an 
ostrich  than  anything  else  ;  I  should  like  to  stick  my  head 
in  the  sand,  and  imagine  myself  invisible.  Bufc — Philip — - 
here  are  six  of  us  together.  One  other,  I  know,  has  a  se- 
cret wound,  perhaps*  two  others  :  is  it  always  so  in  life  ?  I 
think  I  am  selfish  enough  to  be  glad  to  know  that  I  am  not 
specially  picked  out  for  punishment." 

Philip  could  not  help  smiling.  "  Upon  my  soul,"  he  said, 
"  I  believe  Madeline  is  the  only  one  of  the  six  who  is  not 
busy  with  other  thoughts  than  those  we  all  seem  to  utter. 
Specially  picked  out  ?  There  is  no  such  thing  as  special  pick- 
ing out,  in  this  world  !  Joseph,  it  may  seem  hard  and  school- 
master-like in  me  again  to  say  '  wait !  '  yet  that  is  the  only 
word  I  can  say." 

"  Good  evening,  all !  "  cried  Elwood.  "  I  must  go  down 
to  my  men ;  but  I'd  be  glad  of  such  an  inspection  as  this,  a 
good  deal  oftener." 

"  I'll  go  that  far  with  you,"  said  Joseph. 

Mrs.  Hopeton  took  Lucy's  arm  with  a  sudden,  nervous 
movement.  "  If  you  are  not  too  tired,  let  us  walk  over  the 
hill,"  she  said  ;  "  I  want  to  find  the  right  point  of  view  for 
sketching  our  house." 

The  company  dissolved.  Philip,  as  he  walked  up  the 
track  with  his  sister,  said  to  himself:  "  Surely  she  was 
afraid  of  me.  And  what  does  her  fear  indicate  ?  What,  if 
not  that  the  love  she  once  bore  for  me  still  lives  in  her 
heart,  in  spite  of  time  and  separated  fates  ?  I  should  not, 


1'Jb  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FPJKXD. 

dare  not  think  of  her;  I  shall  never  again  speak  a  word  tc 
her  which  her  husband  might  not  hear;  but  I  cannot  tear 
from  me  the  dream  of  what  she  might  be,  the  knowledge  of 
what  she  is,  false,  hopeless,  fatal,  as  it  all  may  be  !  " 

"  Elwood,"  said  Joseph,  when  they  had  walked  a  little 
distance  in  silence,  "  do  you  remember  the  night  you  spent 
with  me,  a  year  ago  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  likely  to  forget  it." 

"  Let  me  ask  you  one  question,  then.  Have  you  come 
nearer  to  Lucy  Henderson  ?  " 

"  If  no  further  oft'  means  nearer,  and  it  almost  seems  so 
in  my  case, — yes  !  " 

"  And  you  see  no  difference  in  her,- — no  new  features  of 
character,  which  you  did  not  guess,  at  first  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  do  !  "  Ehvood  emphatically  answered.  "  To 
me  she  grows  less  and  less  like  any  other  woman, — so  right, 
so  straightforward,  so  honest  in  all  her  ways  and  thoughts  ! 
If  I  am  ever  tempted  to  do  anything — well,  not  exactly 
mean,  you  know,  but  such  as  a  man  might  as  well  leave  un- 
done, I  have  only  to  say  to  myself :  '  If  you're  not  thoroiighly 
good,  my  boy,  you'll  lose  her  ! '  and  that  does  the  business, 
right  away.  Why,  Joseph,  I'm  proud  of  myself,  that  I  mean 
to  deserve  her  !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  A  sigh,  almost  a  groan,  came  from  Joseph's  lips. 
"  What  will  you  think  of  me  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  was  about  to 
repeat  your  own  words, — to  warn  you  to  be  cautious,  and 
take  time,  and  test  your  feelings,  and  not  to  be  too  sure  of 
her  perfection  !  What  can  a  young  man  know  about  wo- 
men ?  He  can  only  discover  the  truth  after  marriage,  and 
then — they  are  indifferent  how  it  affects  him — their  fortunes 
are  made  !  " 

"I  know,"  answered    Elwood,   turning   his   head    away 


197 

slightly;  "but  there's  a  dilll-renco  between  the  women  you 
seek,  and  work  to  get,  and  the  wonien  who  seek,  and  work 
to  get  you." 

'•'I  understand  you.'' 

"Forgive  nit-  for  saying  it!"'  Elwood  cried,  instantly  re- 
penting his  words.  "I  couldn't  help  seeing  and  feeling 
what  you  know  now.  But  what  man — leastways,  what 
friend — could  ha'  said  it  to  you  with  any  chance  of  being 
believed?  You  were  like  a  man  alone  in  a  boat  above  a 
waterfall;  only  you  could  bring  yourself  to  shore.  If  I 
stood  on  the  bank  and  called,  and  you  didn't  believe  me, 
what  then  ?  The  Lord  knows,  I'd  give  this  right  arm, 
strong  as  it  is,  to  put  you  back  where  you  were  a  year  ago." 

"  I've  been  longing  for  frankness,  and  I  ought  to  bear  it 
better,"  said  Joseph.  "  Put  the  whole  subject  out  of  your 
thoughts,  and  come  and  see  me  as  of  old.  It  is  quite  time  I 
should  learn  to  manage  my  own  life." 

He  grasped  Elwood's  hand  convulsively,  sprang  down  the 
embankment,  and  took  to  the  highway.  Elwood  looked 
after  him  a  minute,  then  slowly  shook  his  head  and  walked 
onward  towards  the  men. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Hopeton  and  Lucy  had  climbed  the  hill, 
and  found  themselves  on  the  brow  of  a  rolling  upland,  which 
fell  on  the  other  side  towards  the  old  Calvert  place.  The 
day  was  hot.  Mrs.  Hopeton's  knees  trembled  under  her, 
and  she  sank  on  the  soft  grass  at  the  foot  of  a  tree.  Lucy 
took  a  seat  beside  her.  . 

(t  You  know  so  much  of  my  trouble,"  said  the  former, 
when  the  coolness  and  rest  had  soothed  her,  "  and  I 
trust  you  so  perfectly,  that  I  can  tell  you  all,  Lucy.  Can 
you  guess  the  man  whom  I  loved,  but  must  never  love 
again?" 


198  JOSEPH   AND   HIS    FRIEND. 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought  —  '  but  here  Lucy  hesi- 
tated. 

"  Speak  the  name  in  your  mind,  or,  let  me  say  '  Philip 
Held '  for  you  !  Lucy,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  he  lovers  me  still : 
he  told  me  so,  just  now,  where  we  were  all  together  below 
there !  " 

Lucy  turned  with  a  start,  and  gazed  wonderingly  upon 
her  friend's  face. 

"  Why  does  he  continue  telling  me  what  1  must  not 
hear  ?  with  his  eyes,  Lucy  !  in  the  tones  of  his  voice,  in 
common  words  which  I  am  forced  to  interpret  by  his  mean- 
ing !  I  had  learned  to  bear  my  inevitable  fate,  for  it  is  not  an 
unhappy  one  ;  I  can  bear  even  his  presence,  if  he  were 
generous  enough  to  close  his  heart  as  I  do, — either  that,  or 
to  avoid  me  ;  for  I  now  dread  to  meet  him  again." 

"  Is  it  not,"  Lucy  asked,  "  because  the  trial  is  new,  and 
takes  you  by  surprise  and  unprepared  ?  May  you  not  be 
fearing  more  than  Mr.  Held  has  expressed,  or,  at  least,  in- 
tended ?  " 

"  The  speech  that  kills,  or  makes  alive,  needs  no  words. 
What  I  mean  is,  there  is  no  resistance  in  his  face.  I  blush 
for  myself,  I  am  indignant  at  my  own  pitiful  weakness,  but 
something  in  his  look  to-day  made  me  forget  everything 
that  has  passed  since  \ve  were  parted.  While  it  lasted,  I 
was  under  a  spell, —  a  spell  which  it  humiliates  me  to  re- 
member. Your  voices  sounded  faint  and  far  off;  all  that  I 
have,  and  hold,  seemed  to  be  slipping  from  me.  It  was  only 
for  a  moment,  but,  Lucy,  it  frightened  me.  My  will  is 
strong,  and  I  think  I  can  depend  upon  it ;  yet  what  if  some 
influence  beyond  my  control  were  to  paralyze  it  ?  " 

"  Then  you  must  try  to  win  the  help  of  a  higher  will ;  our 
souls  always  win  something  of  that  which  they  wrestle  and 


JOSEPH  AXD  i  us  FKIE:N~D.  199 

struggle  to  roach.  Pear  Mrs.  Hopeton,  liave  you  never 
thought  that  wo  are  still  as  children  who  cannot  have  all 
they  cry  for?  Now  that  you  know  what  you  fear,  do  not 
dread  to  hold  it  before  your  mind  and  examine  what  it  is: 
at  least,  I  think  that  would  be  mv  instinct. — to  face  a  danger 

J  t-  J  O 

at  once  when  I  found  I  could  not  escape  it." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  yoxi  are  right,  Lucy,"  said  Mrs.  Hope- 
ton  ;  but  her  tone  was  sad,  as  if  she  acquiesced  without 
clearly  believing. 

"  It  seems  very  hard,"  Lucy  continued,  "  when  we  can- 
not have  the  one  love  of  all  others  that  we  need,  harder 
still  when  we  must  put  it  forcibly  from  our  hearts.  But  I 
have  always  felt  that,  when  we  can  bring  ourselves  to  re- 
nounce cheerfully,  a  blessing  will  follow.  I  do  not  know 
how,  but  I  must  believe  it.  Might  it  not  come  at  last 
through  the  love  that  we  have,  though  it  now  seems  im- 
perfect ?  " 

Mrs.  Hopeton  lifted  her  head  from  her  knees,  and  sat 
erect.  "  Lucy,"  she  said,  "  I  do  not  believe  you  are  a 
woman  who  would  ask  another  to  bear  what  is  beyond  your 
own  strength.  Shall  I  put  you  to  the  test  ?  " 

Lucy,  though  her  face  became  visibly  paler,  replied  :  "  I 
did  not  mean  to  compare  my  burden  with  yours  ;  but  weigh 
me,  if  you  wish.  If  I  am  found  wanting,  you  will  show  me 
wherein." 

"  Your  one  love  above  all  others  is  lost  to  you.  Have 
you  conquered  the  desire  for  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  have.  If  some  soreness  remains,  I  try  to  be- 
lieve that  it  is  the  want  of  the  love  which  I  know  to  be 
possible,  not  that  of  the — the  person." 

"  Then  could  you  be  happy  with  what  you  call  an  imper- 
fect love?" 


200  JOSEPH"    AND    HIS    FPJEND. 

Lucy  blushed  a  little,  in  spite  of  herself.  "  I  am  still 
free,"  she  answered,  "  and  not  obliged  to  accept  it.  If  I 
were  bound,  I  hope  I  should  not  neglect  my  duty." 

"  What  if  another's  happiness  depended  on  your  accept- 
ing it  ?  Lucy,  my  eyes  have  been  made  keen  by  what  I 
have  felt.  I  saw  to-day  that  a  man's  heart  follows  you, 
and  I  guess  that  you  know  it.  Here  is  no  imperfect  love  on 
his  part :  were  you  his  wife,  could  you  learn  to  give  him  so 
much  that  your  life  might  become  peaceful  and  satisfied  ?  " 

"  You  do,  indeed,  test  me  !  "  Lucy  murmured.  "  How 
can  I  know  ?  What  answer  can  I  make  ?  I  have  shrunk 
from  thinking  of  that,  and  I  cannot  feel  that  my  duty  lies 
there.  Yet,  if  it  were  so,  if  I  were  already  bound,  irrevoca- 
bly, surely  all  my  present  faith  must  be  false  if  happiness  in 
some  form  did  not  come  at  last !  " 

"  I  believe  it  would,  to  you  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Hopeton.  "  Why 
not  to  me  ?  Do  you  think  I  have  ever  looked  for  love  in 
my  husband  ?  It  seems,  now,  that  I  have  been  content  to 
know  that  he  was  proud  of  me.  If  I  seek,  perhaps  I  may 
find  more  than  I  have  dreamed  of  ;  and  if  I  find,  — if  indeed 
and  truly  I  find,  — I  shall  never  more  lack  self-possession 
and  will  1  " 

She  rose  to  her  full  height,  and  a  flush  came  over  the 
pallor  of  her  cheeks.  "  Yes,"  she  continued,  "  rather  than 
feel  again  the  humiliation  of  to-day,  I  will  trample  all  my 
nature  down  to  the  level  of  an  imperfect  love  !  " 

"  Better,"  said  Lucy,  rising  also,  —  "  better  to  bend  only 
for  a  while  to  the  imperfect,  that  you  may  warm  and  purify 
and  elevate  it,  until  it  shall  take  the  place  of  the  perfect  in 
your  heart." 

The  two  women  kissed  each  other,  and  there  were  tears  on 
the  cheeks  of  both. 


JOSEl'II    AND    HIS    FUiKXD.  201 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    "  WHAKF-UAT." 

Ox  his  way  home  Joseph  reviewed  the  quarrel  with  a  little 
more  calmness,  and,  while  admitting  his  own  rashness  and 
want  of  tact,  felt  relieved  that  it  had  occurred.  Julia  now 
knew,  at  least,  how  sorely  he  had  been  grieved  by  her  selfish- 
ness, and  she  had  thus  an  opportunity,  if  she  really  loved 
him,  of  showing  whether  her  nature  were  capable  of  change. 
He  determined  to  make  no  further  reference  to  the  dissen- 
sion, and  to  avoid  what  might  lead  to  a  new  one.  He  did 
not  guess,  as  he  approached  the  house,  that  his  wife  had  long 
been  watching  at  the  front  window,  in  an  anxious,  excited 
state,  and  that  she  only  slipped  back  to  the  sofa  and  covei'ed 
her  head  just  before  he  reached  the  door. 

For  a  day  or  two  she  was  silent,  and  perhaps  a  little 
sullen;  but  the  payment  of  the  most  pressing  bills,  the 
progress  of  the  new  embellishments,  and  the  necessity  of 
retaining  her  affectionate  playfulness  in  the  presence  of  the 
workmen,  brought  back  her  customary  manner.  ISTow  and 
then  a  sharp,  indirect  allusion  showed  that  she  had  not 
forgotten,  and  had  not  Joseph  closed  his  teeth  firmly  upon 
his  tongue,  the  household  atmosphere  might  have  been 
again  disturbed. 

Not  many  days  elapsed  before  a  very  brief  note  from  Mr. 
Blessing  announced  that  the  fifth  instalment  would  be  need- 
ed. He  wrote  in  great  haste,  he  said,  and  would  explain 
everything  by  a  later  mail. 

Joseph  was  hardly  surprised  now.     He  showed  the  note 
9* 


202  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FRIEND. 

to  Julia,  merely  saying  :  "  I  have  not  the  money,  and  if  I 
had,  lie  could  scarcely  expect  me  to  pay  it  without  knowing 
the  necessity.  My  best  plan  will  be  to  go  to  the  city  at 
once." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  she  answered.  "  You  will  be  far  better 
satisfied  when  you  have  seen  pa,  and  he  can  also  help  you 
to  raise  the  money  temporarily,  if  it  is  really  inevitable. 
He  knows  all  the  capitalists." 

"  I  shall  do  another  thing,  Julia.  I  shall  sell  enough  of 
the  stock  to  pay  the  instalment ;  nay,  I  shall  sell  it  all,  if  I 
can  do  so  without  loss." 

"  Are  you  — "  she  began  fiercely,  but,  checking  herself, 
merely  added,  "  see  pa  first,  that's  all  I  stipulate." 

Mr.  Blessing  had  not  returned  from  the  Custom-House 
when  Joseph  reached  the  city.  He  had  no  mind  to  sit  in 
the  dark  parlor  and  wait ;  so  he  plunged  boldly  into  the 
labyrinth  of  clerks,  porters,  inspectors,  and  tide-waiters. 
"Everybody  knew  Blessing,  but  nobody  could  tell  where  he 
was  to  be  found.  Finally  some  one,  more  obliging  than  the 
rest,  said  :  "  Try  the  Wharf-Rat !  " 

The  Wharf-Rat  proved  to  be  a  "  saloon "  in  a  narrow 
alley  behind  the  Custom-House.  On  opening  the  door,  a 
Venetian  screen  prevented  the  persons  at  the  bar  from  being 
immediately  seen,  but  Joseph  recognized  his  father-in-law's 
voice,  saying,  "  Straight,  if  you  please  !  "  Mr.  Blessing  was 
leaning  against  one  end  of  the  bar,  with  a  glass  in  his  hand, 
engaged  with  an  individual  of  not  very  prepossessing  ap- 
pearance. He  remarked  to  the  latter,  almost  in  a  whisper 
(though  the  words  reached  Joseph's  ears),  "  You  under- 
stand, the  collector  can't  be  seen  every  day ;  it  takes  time, 
and  —  more  or  less  capital.  The  doorkeeper  and  others 
expect  to  be  feed." 


As  .Joseph  approached,  he  turned  towards  him  with  an 
angry,  suspicious  Link,  which  was  not  changed  into  one  of 
welcome  .so  soon  that  a  lla^h  of  uncomfortable  surprise  did 
not  intervene.  But  the  welcome  once  there,  it  deepened 
and  mellowed,  and  became  so  warm  and  rich  that  onlv  a 
cold,  contracted  nature  could  have  refused  to  Lathe  in  its 
effulgence. 

'v'  Why  !  "  he  cried,  with  extended  hands,  "  I  should  as 
soon  have  expected  to  see  daisies  growing  in  this  sawdust,  or 
to  find  these  spittoons  smelling  like  hyacinths  !  Mr.  Tweed, 
one  of  our  rising  politicians,  Mr.  Asten,  my  son-in-law  ! 
Asten,  of  Asten  Hall,  I  might  almost  say,  for  I  hear  that 
your  mansion  is  assuming  quite  a  palatial  aspect.  Another 
glass,  if  you  please :  your  throat  must  be  full  of  dust, 
Joseph, — puLvis  faucibus  liresit,  if  I  might  be  allowed  to 
change  the  classic  phrase." 

Joseph  tried  to  decline,  but  was  forced  to  compromise  on 
a  moderate  glass  of  ale  ;  while  Mr.  Blessing,  whose  glass 
•was  empty,  poured  something  into  it  from  a  black  bottle, 
nodded  to  Mr.  Tweed,  and  saying,  "  Always  straight !  " 
drank  it  off. 

"You  would  not  suppose,"  he  then  said  to  Joseph,  "that 
this  little  room,  dark  as  it  is,  and  not  agreeably  fragrant,  has 
often  witnessed  the  arrangement  of  political  manoeuvres 
which  have  decided  the  City,  and  through  the  City  the 
State.  I  have  seen  together  at  that  table,  at  midnight, 
Senator  Slocum,  and  the  Honorables  Whitstone,  Hacks,  and 
Larruper.  Why,  the  First  Auditor  of  the  Treasury  was 
here  no  later  than  last  week  !  I  frequently  transact  some 
of  the  confidential  business  of  the  Custom-House  within 
these  precincts,  as  at  present." 

"  Shall  I  wait  for  you  outside  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 


204:  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    F11IEND. 

"  I  think  it  will  not  bo  necessary.  I  have  stated  the 
facts,  Mr.  Tweed,  and  if  you  accept  them,  the  figures 
can  be  arranged  between  us  at  any  time.  It  is  a  simple 
case  of  algebra  :  by  taking  x}  you  work  out  the  unknown 
quantity." 

With  a  hearty  laugh  at  his  own  smartness,  he  shook  the 
"  rising  politician's "  hand,  and  left  the  Wharf-Rat  with 
Joseph. 

"  We  can  talk  here  as  well  as  in  the  woods,"  he  said. 
"  Nobody  ever  hears  anything  in  this  crowd.  But  perhaps 
we  had  better  not  mention  the  Amaranth  by  name,  as  the 
operation  has  been  kept  so  very  close.  Shall  we  say  {  Par- 
aguay '  instead,  or — still  better — '  Reading,'  which  is  a 
very  common  stock?  Well,  then,  I  guess  you  have  come 
to  see  me  in  relation  to  the  Reading  ?  " 

Joseph,  as  briefly  as  possible,  stated  the  embarrassment 
lie  suffered,  on  account  of  the  continued  calls  for  payment, 
the  difficulty  of  raising  money  for  the  fifth  instalment,  and 
bluntly  expressed  his  doubts  of  the  success  of  the  specula- 
tion. Mr.  Blessing  heard  him  patiently  to  the  end,  and  then, 
having  collected  himself,  answered : — 

"  I  understand,  most  perfectly,  your  feeling  in  the  matter. 
Further,  I  do  not  deny  that  in  respect  to  the  time  of  realiz- 
ing from  the  Am — Reading,  I  should  say —  I  have  also  been 
disappointed.  It  has  cost  me  no  little  trouble  to  keep  my 
own  shares  intact,  and  my  stake  is  so  much  greater  than 
yours,  for  it  is  my  all !  I  am  ready  to  unite  with  the 
Chowder,  at  once:  indeed,  as  one  of  the  directors,  I  men- 
tioned it  at  our  last  meeting,  but  the  proposition,  I  regret  to 
say,  was  not  favorably  entertained.  We  are  dependent,  in  a 
great  measure,  on  Karmck,  who  is  on  the  spot  superintend- 
ing the  Reading ;  he  has  been  telegraphed  to  come  on,  and 


promises  to  do  so  as  soon  as  the  funds  now  called  for  are 
forthcoming.  My  faith,  I  hardly  need  intimate,  is  firm." 

"  My  only  resource,  then,''  said  Joseph,  ''  will  be  to  sell 
a  portion  of  my  stock,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  drawback  to  that  course,  and  I  am  afraid 
you  may  not  quite  understand  my  explanation.  The— 
Heading  has  not  been  introduced  in  the  market,  and  its 
real  value  could  not  be  demonstrated  without  betraying 
the  secret  lever  by  which  we  intend  hoisting  it  to  a  fancy 
height.  We  could  only  dispose  of  a  portion  of  it  to  capi- 
talists whom  we  choose  to  take  into  our  confidence.  The 
same  reason  would  be  valid  against  hypothecation." 

"  Have  you  paid  this  last  instalment  ?  "  Joseph  suddenly 
asked. 

"  N —  no  ;  not  wholly  ;  but  I  anticipate  a  temporary  ac- 
commodation. If  Mr.  Spelter  deprives  me  of  Clementina, 
as  I  hear  (through  third  parties)  is  daily  becoming  more 
probable,  my  family  expenses  will  be  so  diminished  that  I 
shall  have  an  ample  margin ;  indeed,  I  shall  feel  like  a  large 
paper  copy,  with  my  leaves  uncut  !  " 

He  rubbed  his  hands  gleefully  ;  but  Joseph  was  too  much 
disheartened  to  reply. 

"  This  might  be  done,"  Mr.  Blessing  continued.  "  It  is 
not  certain  that  all  the  stockholders  have  yet  paid.  I  will 
look  over  the  books,  and  if  such  be  the  case,  your  delay 
would  not  be  a  sporadic  delinquency.  If  otherwise,  I  will 
endeavor  to  gain  the  consent  of  my  fellow-directors  to  the 
introduction  of  a  new  capitalist,  to  whom  a  small  portion 
of  your  interest  may  be  transferred.  I  trust  you  perceive 
the  relevancy  of  this  caution.  We  do  not  mean  that  our 
flower  shall  always  blush  unseen,  and  waste  its  sweetness  on 
the  oleaginous  air ;  we  only  wish  to  guard  against  its  being 


206  JOSEMI  AXD  ins  FRIESTD. 

'  untimely  ripped '  (as  Shakespeare  says)  from  its  parent 
stalk.  I  can  well  imagine  how  incomprehensible  all  this 
may  appear  to  yon.  In  all  probability  much  of  your  con- 
versation at  home,  relative  to  crops  and  the  like,  would  be 
to  me  an  unknown  dialect.  But  I  should  not,  therefore, 
doubt  your  intelligence  and  judgment  in  such  matters." 

Joseph  began  to  grow  impatient.  "  Do  1  understand 
you  to  say,  Mr.  Blessing,"  he  asked,  "  that  the  call  for  the 
fifth  instalment  can  be  met  by  the  sale  of  a  part  of  my 
stock  ? " 

"  In  an  ordinary  case  it  might  not — under  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  our  operation — be  possible.  But  I  trust  I 
do  not  exaggerate  my  own  influence  when  I  say  that  it  is 
within  my  power  to  arrange  it.  If  you  will  confide  it  to 
my  hands,  you  understand,  of  course,  that  a  slight  formality 
is  necessary, — a  power  of  attorney  ?  " 

Joseph,  in  his  haste  and  excitement,  had  not  considered 
this,  or  any  other  legal  point  :  Mr.  Blessing  was  right. 

"  Then,  supposing  the  shares  to  be  worth  only  their  par 
value,"  he  said,  "  the  power  need  not  apply  to  more  than 
one-tenth  of  my  stock  ?  " 

Mr.  Blessing  came  into  collision  with  a  gentleman  passing 
him.  Mutual  wrath  was  aroused,  followed  by  mutual  apo- 
logies. "  Let  us  turn  into  the  other  street,"  he  said  to 
Joseph  ;  "  really,  our  lives  are  hardly  safe  in  this  crowd ;  it 
is  nearly  three  o'clock,  and  the  banks  will  soon  be  closed." 

"  It  would  be  prudent  to  allow  a  margin,"  he  resumed, 
after  their  course  had  been  changed  :  "  the  money  market  is 
very  tight,  and  if  a  necessity  were  suspected,  most  capital- 
ists are  unprincipled  enough  to  exact  accorJing  to  the 
urgency  of  the  need.  I  do  not  say — nor  do  I  at  all  antici- 
pate— that  it  would  be  so  in  your  case ;  still,  the  future  is 


207 

a  sort  of  dissolving  vie\v,  and  my  suggestion  i.s  that  of  the 
merest  prudence.  I  have  no  doubt  that  double  the  amount 
— say  one-iifih  of  your  stock — would  guard  us  against  all 
contingencies.  If  you  prefer  not  to  intrust  the  matter  to 
iny  hands,  I  will  introduce  you  to  Honeyspoon  Brothers, 
the  hankers, — the  elder  Honeyspoon  being  a  director, — who 
will  be  very  ready  to  execute  your  commission." 

"\Vhat  could  Joseph  do  'J.  It  was  impossible  to  say  to  Mr. 
Blessing's  face  that  he  mistrusted  him  :  yet  he  certainly  did 
not  trust  !  He  was  weary  of  plausible  phrases,  the  import 
of  which  he  was  powerless  to  dispute,  yet  which  were  so  at 
variance  with  what  seemed  to  be  the  facts  of  the  case.  He 
felt  that  he  was  lifted  aloft  into  a  dazzling,  secure  atmos- 
phere, but  as  often  as  he  turned  to  look  at  the  wings  which 
upheld  him,  their  plumage  shrivelled  into  dust,  and  he  fell 
an  immense  distance  before  his  feet  touched  a  bit  of  reality. 

The  power  of  attorney  was  given.  Joseph  declined  Mr. 
Blessing's  invitation  to  dine  with  him  at  the  Universal 
Hotel,  the  Blessing  table  being  t(  possibly  a  little  lean  to 
one  accustomed  to  the  bountiful  profusion  of  the  country," 
on  the  plea  that  he  must  return  by  the  evening  train ;  but 
such  a  weariness  and  disgust  came  over  him  that  he  halted 
at  the  Farmers'  Tavern,  and  took  a  room  for  the  night.  He 
slept  until  long  into  the  morning,  and  then,  cheered  in  spi- 
rit through  the  fresh,  vigor  of  all  his  physical  functions, 
started  homewards. 


208  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FJilEND. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A    CRISIS. 

JOSEPH  bad  made  half  the  distance  between  Oakland  Sta- 
tion and  bis  farm,  walking  leisurely,  when  a  buggy,  drawn, 
by  an  aged  and  irreproachable  gray  horse,  came  towards 
him.  The  driver  was  the  Reverend  Mr.  Chaffinch.  He 
stopped  as  they  met. 

"  Will  you  turn  back,  as  far  as  that  tree  ?  "  said  the  cler- 
gyman, after  greetings  had  been  exchanged.  "  I  have  a 
message  to  deliver." 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  reining  up  his  horse  in  the  shade, 
"  we  can  talk  without  interruption.  I  will  ask  you  to  listen 
to  me  with  the  spiritual,  not  the  carnal  ear.  I  must  not  be 
false  to  my  high  calling,  and  the  voice  of  my  own  conscience 
calls  me  to  awaken  yours." 

Joseph  said  nothing,  but  the  flush  upon  his  face  was  that 
of  anger,  not  of  confusion,  as  Mr.  Chaffinch  innocently  sup- 
posed. 

"  It  is  hard  for  a  young  man,  especially  one  wise  in  his 
own  conceit,  to  see  how  the  snares  of  the  Adversary  are 
closing  around  him.  We  cannot  plead  ignorance,  however, 
when  the  Light  is  there,  and  we  wilfully  turn  our  eyes  from 
it.  You  are  walking  on  a  road,  Joseph  Asten,  it  may  seem 
smooth  and  fair  to  you,  but  do  you  know  where  it  leads  ? 
I  will  tell  you  :  to  Death  and  Hell !  " 

Still  Joseph  was  silent. 

"  It  is  not  too  late  !    Your  fault,  I  fear,  is  that  you  attach 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEXD.  209 

merit  to  works,  as  if  works  could  save  you  !  You  look  to  a 
cold,  barren  morality  for  support,  and  imagine  that  to  do 
wliat  is  called  'right'  is  enough  for  God!  You  shut  your 
eyes  to  the  blackness  of  your  own  sinful  heart,  and  are  too 
proud  to  acknowledge  the  vileness  and  depravity  of  man's 
nature ;  but  without  this  acknowledgment  your  morality  (as 
you  call  it)  is  corrupt,  your  good  works  (as  you  suppose 
them  to  be)  will  avail  you  naught.  You  are  outside  the 
pale  of  Grace,  and  while  you  continue  there,  knowing  the 
door  to  be  open,  there  is  no  Mercy  for  you  !  " 

The  flush  on  Joseph's  face  faded,  and  he  became  very  pale, 
but  he  still  waited.  "  I  hope,"  Mr.  Chaffinch  continued, 
after  a  pause,  "  that  your  silence  is  the  beginning  of  convic- 
tion. It  only  needs  an  awakening,  an  opening  of  the  eyes  in 
them  that  sleep.  Do  you  not  recognize  your  guilt,  your 
miserable  condition  of  sin  ?  " 

"  No  I " 

Mr.  Chaffinch  started,  and  an  ugly,  menacing  expression 
came  into  his  face. 

"  Before  you  speak  again,"  said  Joseph,  "  tell  me  one 
thing  !  Am  I  indebted  for  this  Catechism  to  the  order — 
perhaps  I  should  say  the  request — of  my  wife  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  deny  that  she  has  expressed  a  Christian  con- 
cern for  your  state  ;  but  I  do  not  wait  for  a  request  when 
I  see  a  soul  in  peril.  If  I  care  for  the  sheep  that  willingly 
obey  the  shepherd,  how  much  more  am  I  commanded  to 
look  after  them  which  stray,  and  which  the  wolves  and 
bears  are  greedy  to  devour  !  " 

"  Have  you  ever  considered,  Mr.  Chaffinch,"  Joseph  re- 
joined, lifting  his  head  and  speaking  with  measured  clear- 
ness, "  that  an  intelligent  man  may  possibly  be  aware  that 
he  has  an  immortal  soul, — that  the  health  and  purity  and 


213  JOSEPH    AND    IITS   FPJEND. 

growth  of  that  soul  may  possibly  be  his  first  concern  in  life, 
— that  no  other  man  can  know,  as  lie  does,  its  imperfections, 
its  needs,  its  aspirations  which  rise  direcily  towards  God  ; 
and  that  the  attempt  of  a  stranger  to  examine  and  criticise, 
and  perhaps  blacken,  this  most  sacred  part  of  his  nature, 
may  possibly  be  a  pious  impertinence  ?  " 

"  Ah,  the  natural  depravity  of  the  heart  !  "  Mr.  Chaffinch 
groaned. 

"  It  is  not  the  depravity,  it  is  the  only  pure  quality  which 
the  hucksters  of  doctrine,  the  money-changers  in  God's  tem- 
ple of  Man,  cannot  touch !  Shall  I  render  a  reckoning  to 
you  on  the  day  when  souls  are  judged  ?  Are  you  the  infal- 
lible agent  of  the  Divine  Mercy  ?  What  blasphemy  !  " 

Mr.  Chaffinch  shuddered.  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  you  !  " 
he  cried.  "  I  have  had  to  deal  with  many  sinners  in  my 
day,  but  I  have  found  no  sin  which  came  so  directly  from 
the  Devil  as  the  pride  of  the  mind.  If  you  were  rotten 
in  all  your  members  from  the  sins  of  the  flesh,  I  might 
have  a  little  hope.  Verily,  it  shall  go  easier  with  the 
murderer  and  the  adulterer  on  that  day  than  with  such 
as  ye !  " 

He  gave  the  horse  a  more  than  saintly  stroke,  and  the 
vehicle  rattled  away.  Joseph  could  not  see  the  predomi- 
nance of  routine  in  all  that  Mr.  Chaffinch  had  said.  He 
was  too  excited  to  remember  that  certain  phrases  are  trans- 
mitted, and  used  without  a  thought  of  their  tremendous  cha- 
racter ;  he  applied  every  word  personally,  and  felt  it  as  an 
outrage  in  all  the  sensitive  fibres  of  his  soul.  And  who 
had  invoked  the  outrage  ?  His  wife  :  Mr.  Chaffinch  had 
confessed  it.  What  representations  had  she  made  ? — he 
could  only  measure  them  by  the  character  of  the  clergyman's 
charges.  He  sat  down  on  the  bank,  sick  at  heart ;  it  was  ini- 


JOSEPH    AXD    Ills    ITJEXD.  211 

possible  to  go  home  and  meet  her  in  his  present  frame  ot 
mind. 

Presently  lie  started  up,  crying  aloud  :  "  I  will  go  to 
Philip  !  He  cannot  help  me,  I  know,  but  I  must  have  a 
word  of  love  from  a  friend,  or  1  shall  go  mad  !  ;' 

He  retraced  his  steps,  took  the  road  up  the  valley,  and 
walked  rapidly  towards  the  Forge.  The  tumult  in  his  blood 
gradually  expended  its  force,  but  it  had  carried  him  along 
more  swiftly  than  he  was  aware.  When  he  reached  the 
point  where,  looking  across  the  valley,  now  narrowed  to  a 
glen,  he  could  see  the  smoke  of  the  Forge  near  at  hand,  and 
even  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  cottage  on.  the  knoll,  he  stopped. 
Up  to  this  moment  he  had  felt,  not  reflected  :  and  a  secret 
instinct  told  him  that  he  should  not  submit  his  trouble  to 
Philip's  riper  manhood  until  it  was  made  clear  and  coherent 
in  his  own  mind.  He  must  keep  Philip's  love,  at  all  hazards ; 
and  to  keep  it  he  must  not  seem  simply  a  creature  of  moods 
and  sentiments,  whom  his  friend  might  pity,  but  could 
not  respect. 

He  left  the  road,  crossed  a  sloping  field  on  the  left,  and 
presently  found  himself  on  a  bank  overhanging  the  stream. 
Under  the  wood  of  oaks  and  hemlocks  the  laurel  grew  in 
rich,  shining  clumps  ;  the  current,  at  this  point  deep,  full, 
and  silent,  glimmered  through  the  leaves,  twenty  feet  below; 
the  opposite  shore  was  level,  and  green  with  an  herbage 
which  no  summer  could  wither.  He  leaned  against  a  hem- 
lock bole,  and  tried  to  think,  but  it  was  not  easy  to  review 
the  past  while  his  future  life  overhung  him  like  a  descending 
burden  which  he  had  not  the  strength  to  lift.  Love  be- 
trayed, trust  violated,  aspiration  misinterpreted,  were  the 
spiritual  aspects ;  a  divided  household,  entangling  obliga- 
tions, a  probability  of  serious  loss,  were  the  material  evils 


212  JOSEPH    AND    1113    FJilKNI). 

which  accompanied  them.  He  was  .so  unprepared  for  the 
change  that  he  could  only  rebel,  not  measure,  analyze,  and 
cast  about  for  ways  of  relief. 

It  was  a  miserable  strait  in  which  he  found  himself;  and 
the  more  he  thought — or,  rather,  seemed  to  think — the  less 
was  he  able  to  foresee  any  other  than  an  unfortunate  solu- 
tion. What  were  his  better  impulses,  if  men  persisted  in 
finding  them  evil?  What  was  life,  yoked  to  such  treachery 
and  selfishness  ?  Life  had  been  to  him  a  hope,  an  inspira- 
tion, a  sound,  enduring  joy  ;  now  it  might  never  be  so  again  ! 
Then  what  a  release  were  death  ! 

He  walked  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  rock.  A  few  peb- 
bles, dislodged  by  his  feet,  slid  from  the  brink,  and  plunged 
with  a  bubble  and  a  musical  tinkle  into  the  dark,  sliding 
waters.  One  more  step,  and  the  release  which  seemed  so  fair 
might  be  attained.  He  felt  a  morbid  sense  of  delight  in 
playing  with  the  thought.  Gathering  a  handful  of  broken 
stones,  he  let  them  fall  one  by  one,  thinking,  "  So  I  hold  my 
fate  in  my  hand."  He  leaned  over  and  saw  a  shifting, 
quivering  image  of  himself  projected  against  the  reflected 
sky,  and  a  fancy,  almost  as  clear  as  a  voice,  said  :  "  This  is 
your  present  self :  what  will  you  do  with  it  beyond  the  gulf, 
where  only  the  soul  superior  to  circumstances  here  receives 
a  nobler  destiny?  " 

He  was  still  gazing  down  at  the  flickering  figure,  when  a 
step  came  upon  the  dead  leaves.  He  turned  and  saw  Philip, 
moving  stealthily  towards  him,  pale,  with  outstretched  hand. 
They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment  without  speak- 
ing. 

"  I  guess  your  thought,  Philip,"  Joseph  then  said.  "  But 
the  things  easiest  to  do  are  sometimes  the  most  impossible." 

"  The  bravest  man  may  allow  a  fancy  to  pass  through  his 


213 

mind,  Joseph,  which  only  the  coward  will  carry  into 
effect." 

"I  am  not  a  coward  !  ;'  Joseph  exclaimed. 

Philip  took  his  hand,  drew  him  ir.-arer,  and  flinging  his 
arms  around  him,  held  him  to  his  heart. 

Then  they  sat  down,  side  by  side. 

'•'I  was  up  the  stream,  on  the  other  side,  trolling  for 
trout,"  said  Philip,  ';  when  I  saw  you  in  the  road.  I  was 
welcoming  your  coming,  in  my  heart :  then  you  stopped, 
stood  still,  and  at  last  turned  away.  Something  in  your 
movements  gave  me  a  sudden,  terrible  feeling  of  anxiety  :  I 
threw  down  my  rod,  came  around  by  the  bridge  at  the 
Forge,  and  followed  you  here.  Do  not  blame  me  for  my 
foolish  dread." 

"  Dear,  dear  friend,"  Joseph  cried,  "  I  did  not  mean  to 
come  to  you  until  I  seemed  stronger  and  more  rational  in  my 
own  eyes.  If  that  were  a  vanity,  it  is  gone  now :  I  confess 
iny  weakness  and  ignorance.  Tell  me,  if  you  can,  why  this 
has  come  upon  me  ?  Tell  me  why  nothing  that  I  have  been 
taught,  why  no  atom  of  the  faith  which  I  still  must  cling  to, 
explains,  consoles,  or  remedies  any  wrong  of  my  life  !  " 

"  Faiths,  I  suspect,"  Philip  answered,  "  are,  like  laws, 
adapted  to  the  average  character  of  the  human  race.  You, 
in  the  confiding  purity  of  your  nature,  are  not  an  average 
man :  you  are  very  much  above  the  class,  and  if  virtue  were 
its  own  reward,  you  would  be  most  exceptionally  happy. 
Then  the  puzzle  is,  what's  the  particular  use  of  virtue  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Philip,  but  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  ask 
the  question.  I  find  myself  so  often  on  the  point  of  doubt- 
ing all  that  was  my  Truth  a  little  while  ago  ;  and  yet,  why 
should  my  misfortunes,  as  an  individual,  make  the  truth  a 
lie  ?  I  am  only  one  man  among  millions  who  must  have 


214  JOSEPH   AXD   IIIS    FRIEND. 

faith,  ill  the  efficacy  of  virtue.  Philip,  if  I  believed  the  faith 
to  be  false,  I  think  I  should  still  say,  '  Let  it  be  preached  ! ' ' 

Joseph  related  to  Philip  the  whole  of  his  miserable  story, 
not  sparing  himself,  nor  concealing  the  weakness  which 
allowed  him  to  be  entangled  to  such  an  extent.  Philip's 
brow  grew  dark  as  he  listened,  but  at  the  close  of  the  recital 
his  face  was  calm,  though  stern. 

"  Now,"  said  he, — "  now  put  this  aside  for  a  little  while, 
and  give  your  ear  (and  your  heart  too,  Joseph)  to  my  story. 
Do  not  compare  my  fortune  with  yours,  but  let  us  apply  to 
both  the  laws  which  seem  to  govern  life,  and  see  whether 
justice  is  possible." 

Joseph  had  dismissed  his  wife's  suspicion,  after  the  dinner 
at  Hopeton's,  so  immediately  from  his  memory,  that  he  had 
really  forgotten  it ;  and  he  was  not  only  startled,  but  also  a 
little  shocked,  by  Philip's  confession.  Still,  he  saw  that  it 
was  only  the  reverse  form  of  his  own  experience,  not  more 
strange,  perhaps  not  more  to  be  condemned,  yet  equally  in- 
evitable. 

"  Is  there  no  way  out  of  this  labyrinth  of  wrong  ?  "  Philip 
exclaimed.  "  Two  natures,  as  far  apart  as  Truth  and  False- 
hood, monstrously  held  together  in  the  most  intimate,  the 
holiest  of  bonds, — two  natures  destined  for  each  other  mon- 
strously kept  apart  by  the  same  bonds !  Is  life  to  be  so 
sacrificed  to  habit  and  prejudice?  I  said  that  Faith,  like 
Law,  was  fashioned  for  the  average  man :  then  there  must  be 
a  loftier  faith,  a  juster  law,  for  the  men — and  the  women — 
who  cannot  shape  themselves  according  to  the  common-place 
pattern  of  society, — who  were  born  with  instincts,  needs, 
knowledge,  and  rights— ay,  rights  ! — of  their  own  !  " 

"But,  Philip,"  said  Joseph,  "we  were  both  to  blame:  you 
through  too  little  trust,  I  through  too  much.  "We  have  both 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEX1).  215 

been  rasli  and  impatient  :  I  cannot  forget  that ;  and  how  are 
we  to  know  that  the  punishment,  terrible  as  it  seems,  is  dis- 
proportioned  to  the  offence?" 

"  AVe  know  this,  Joseph, — and  who  can  know  it  and  be 
patient? — that  the  power  which  controls  onr  lives  is  pitiless, 
unrelenting  !  There  is  the  same  punishment  for  an  innocent 
mistake  as  for  a  conscious  crime.  A  certain  Xemesis  follows 
ignorance,  regardless  how  good  and  pure  may  be  the  individ- 
ual nature.  Had  you  even  guessed  your  wife's  true  charac- 
ter just  before  marriage,  your  very  integrity,  your  conscience, 
and  the  conscience  of  the  world,  would  have  compelled  the 
union,  and  jSTature  would  not  have  mitigated  her  selfishness 
to  reward  you  with  a  tolerable  life.  O  no  !  You  would 
still  have  suffered  as  now.  Shall  a  man  with  a  heart  feel 
this  horrible  injustice,  and  not  rebel?  Grant  that  I  am 
rightly  punished  for  my  impatience,  my  pride,  my  jealousy, 
how  have  you  been  rewarded  for  your  stainless  youth,  your 
innocent  trust,  your  almost  miraculous  goodness  ?  Had  you 
known  the  world  better,  even  though  a  part  of  your  know- 
ledge might  have  been  evil,  you  would  have  escaped  this 
fatal  marriage.  Nothing  can  be  more  certain  ;  and  will  you 
simply  groan  and  bear  ?  What  compensating  fortune  have 
you,  or  can  you  ever  expect  to  find  ?  " 

Joseph  was  silent  at  first ;  but  Philip  could  see,  from  the 
trembling  of  his  hands,  and  Ms  quick  breathing,  that  he  was 
profoundly  agitated.  "  There  is  something  within  me,"  he 
said,  at  last,  "  which  accepts  everything  you  say ;  and  yet,  it 
alarms  me.  I  feel  a  mighty  temptation  in  your  words :  they 
could  lead  me  to  snap  my  chains,  break  violently  away  from 
my  past  and  present  life,  and  surrender  myself  to  will  and 
appetite.  O  Philip,  if  we  could  make  our  lives  wholly  our 
own !  If  we  could  fiud  a  spot — " 


216  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FEIEXD. 

"  I  know  such  a  spot  !  "  Philip  cried,  interrupting  him, — 
"  a  groat  valley,  bounded  by  a  hundred  miles  of  snowy 
peaks;  lakes  in  its  bed  ;  enormous  hillsides,  dotted  with 
groves  of  ilex  and  pine  ;  orchards  of  orange  and  olive  ;  a  per- 
fect climate,  where  it  is  bliss  enough  just  to  breathe,  and  free- 
dom from  the  distorted  laws  of  men,  for  none  are  near  enough 
to  enforce  them  !  If  there  is  no  legal  way  of  escape  for  you, 
here,  at  least,  there  is  no  force  which  can  drag  you  back, 
once  you  are  there  :  I  will  go  with  you,  and  perhaps — per- 
haps— " 

Philip's  face  glowed,  and  the  vague  alarm  in  Joseph's 
heart  took  a  definite  form.  He  guessed  what  words  had 
been  left  unspoken. 

"  If  we  could  be  sure  !  "  he  said. 

"  Sure  of  what  ?  Have  I  exaggerated  the  wrong  in  your 
case  ?  Say  we  should  be  outlaws  there,  in  our  freedom  ! — 
here  we  are  fettered  outlaws." 

"  I  have  been  trying,  Philip,  to  discover  a  law  superior 
to  that  under  which  we  suffer,  and  I  think  I  have  found  it. 
If  it  be  true  that  ignorance  is  equally  punished  with  guilt ; 
if  causes  and  consequences,  in  which  there  is  neither  pity 
nor  justice,  govern  our  lives, — then  what  keeps  our  souls 
from  despair  but  the  infinite  pity  and  perfect  justice  of 
God  ?  Yes,  here  is  the  difference  between  human  and  di- 
vine law!  This  makes  obedience  safer  than  rebellion.  If 
you  and  I,  Philip,  stand  above  the  level  of  common  natures, 
feeling  higher  needs  and  claiming  other  rights,  let  us  shape 
them  according  to  the  law  which  is  above,  not  that  which  is 
below  us  ! " 

Philip  grew  pale.  "  Then  you  mean  to  endure  in  patience, 
and  expect  me  to  do  the  same  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  I  can.    The  old  foundations  upon  which  my  life  rested 


JOSKl'l!    AND    IITS    FKIKND.  217 

are  broken  up,  and  I  am  too  bewildered  to  venture  OH  a 
random  path,  Give  mr  ti7:ie  ;  nay,  let  us  Loth  strive  to 
wait  a  little.  I  see  nothing  clearly  but  this:  there  is  a 
l)i vine  L'overnment,  on  which  I  lean  now  as  never  before. 
Yes,  I  say  again,  the  veiy  wrong  that  has  come  upon  us 
makes  God  necessary  ! '' 

It  was  Philip's  turn  to  be  agitated.  There  was  a  simple, 
solemn  conviction  in  Joseph's  voice  which  struck  to  his  heart. 
He  had  spoken  from  the  heat  of  his  passion,  it  is  true,  but 
he  had  the  courage  to  disregard  the  judgment  of  men,  find 
make  his  protest  a  reality.  Both  natures  shared  the  desire, 
and  were  enticed  by  the  daring  of  his  dream ;  but  out  of 
Joseph's  deeper  conscience  came  a  whisper,  against  which 
the  cry  of  passion  was  powerless. 

"  Yes,  we  will  wait,"  said  Philip,  after  a  long  pause. 
"  You  came  to  me,  Joseph,  as  you  said,  in  weakness  and 
confusion  :  I  have  been  talking  of  your  innocence  and  igno- 
rance. Let  us  not  measure  ourselves  in  this  way.  It  is  not 
experience  alone  which  creates  manhood.  What  will  be- 
come of  us  I  cannot  tell,  but  I  will  not,  I  dare  not,  say  you 
are  wrong  !  " 

They  took  each  other's  hands.  The  day  was  fading,  the 
landscape  was  silent,  and  only  the  twitter  of  nesting  birds 
was  heard  in  the  boughs  above  them.  Each  gave  way  to 
the  impulse  of  his  manly  love,  rarer,  alas  !  but  as  tender  and 
true  as  the  love  of  woman,  and  they  drew  nearer  and  kissed 
each  other.  As  they  walked  back  and  parted  on  the  high- 
way, each  felt  that  life  was  not  wholly  unkind,  and  that 
happiness  was  not  yet  impossible. 
10 


218  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FRIEND. 


CHAPTEK  XXI. 

UNDER    THE    WATER. 

JOSEPH  said  nothing  that  evening  concerning  the  result 
of  his  trip  to  the  city,  and  Julia,  who  instantly  detected  the 
signs  which  a  powerful  excitement  had  left  upon  his  face, 
thought  it  prudent  to  ask  no  immediate  questions.  She  was 
purposely  demonstrative  in  little  arrangements  for  his  com- 
fort, but  spared  him  her  caresses ;  she  did  not  intend  to  be 
again  mistaken  in  choosing  the  time  and  occasion  of  bestow- 
ing them. 

The  next  morning,  when  he  felt  that  he  could  speak 
calmly,  Joseph  told  her  what  he  had  done,  carefully  avoid 
ing  any  word  that  might  seem  to  express  disappointment,  or 
even  doubt. 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  that  pa  will  make  it  easy  for 
you  ?  "  she  ventured  to  say. 

"  He  thinks  so."  Then  Joseph  could  not  help  adding : 
"  He  depends,  I  imagine,  upon  your  sister  Clementina  mar- 
rying a  Mr.  Spelter, — '  a  man  of  immense  wealth,  but,  I 
regret  to  say,  no  refinement.' " 

Julia  bit  her  lip,  and  her  eyes  assumed  that  hard,  flinty 
look  which  her  husband  knew  so  well.  "  If  Clementina 
marries  immense  wealth,"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  half-con- 
cealed sneer,  "  she  will  become  simply  insufferable !  But 
what  difference  can  that  make  in  pa's  business  affairs?  " 

The  answer  tingled  on  Joseph's  tongue :  "  Probably  he 
expects  Mr.  Spelter  to  indorse  a  promissory  note  "  j  but  he 


JOSEl'II    AND    HIS    FRIEXD.  219 

held  it  htxck.  "  What  T  have  resolved  to  do  is  tliis,"  he 
said.  "  I  a  a  day  or  two — a.s  soon  ;is  I  can  arrange  to  leave 
—  I  shall  make  a  journey  to  the  oil  region,  and  satisfy  myself 
where  and  what  the  Amaranth  is.  Your  own  practical 
instincts  will  tell  yon,  Julia,  that  this  intention  of  mine  must 
be  kept  secret,  even  from  your  father. " 

She  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand,  and  appeared  to 
reflect.  When  she  looked  up  her  face  had  a  cheerful,  con- 
fiding expression. 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  she  then  said.  "  If — if  things 
should  not  happen  to  be  quite  as  they  are  represented, 
you  can  secure  yourself  against  any  risk — and  pa,  too — 
before  the  others  know  of  it.  Y"ou  will  have  the  inside 
track ;  that  is,  if  there  is  one.  On  the  other  hand,  if  all  is 
right,  pa  can  easily  manage,  if  some  of  the  others  are  shaky 
in  their  faith,  to  get  their  stock  at  a  bargain.  I  am  sure  he 
would  have  gone  out  there  himself,  if  his  official  services 
were  not  so  important  to  the  government." 

It  was  a  hard  task  for  Joseph  to  keep  his  feelings  to  him- 
self. 

"  And  now,"  she  continued, — "  now  I  know  you  will  agree 
to  a  plan  of  mine,  which  I  was  going  to  propose.  Lucy 
Henderson's  school  closes  this  week,  and  Mrs.  Hopeton  tells 
me  she  is  a  little  overworked  and  ailing.  It  would  hardly 
help  her  much  to  go  home,  where  she  could  not  properly 
rest,  as  her  father  is  a  hard,  avaricious  man,  who  can't  en- 
dure idleness,  except,  I  suppose,  in  a  corpse  (so  these  people 
seem  to  me).  I  want  to  ask  Lucy  to  come  here.  I  think 
you  always  liked  her "  (here  Julia  shot  a  swift,  stealthy 
glance  at  Joseph),  "  and  so  she  will  be  an  agreeable  guest 
for  both  of  us.  She  shall  just  rest  and  grow  strong.  While 
you  are  absent,  I  shall  not  seem  qxiite  so  lonely.  You  may 


220  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FREKND. 

be  gone  a  week  or  more,  and  I  shall  find  the  separation  vevv 
hard  to  bear,  even  with  her  company." 

"  Why  has  Mrs.  Hopeton  not  invited  her  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  The  Hopetons  are  going  to  the  sea-shore  in  a  few  days. 
She  would  take  Lucy  as  a  guesty  but  there  is  one  difficulty 
in  the  way.  She  thinks  Lucy  would  accept  the  trip  and  the 
stay  there  as  an  act  of  hospitality,  but  that  she  cannot  (or 
thinks  she  cannot)  afford  the  dresses  that  would  enable  her 
to  appear  in  Mrs.  liopeton's  circle.  But  it  is  just  as  well : 
I  am  sure  Lucy  would  feel  more  at  home  here." 

"  Then  by  all  means  ask  her  !  "  said  Joseph.  "  Lucy 
Henderson  is  a  noble  girl,  for  she  has  forced  a  true-hearted 
man  to  love  her,  without  return." 

"  Ind-e-e-cl !  " 

Julia's  drawl  denoted  surprise  and  curiosity,  but  Joseph 
felt  that  once  more  he  had  spoken  too  quickly.  He  en- 
deavored to  cover  his  mistake  by  a  hearty  acquiescence  in 
the  plan,  which  was  speedily  arranged  between  them,  in  all 
its  details,  Lucy's  consent  being  taken  for  granted. 

It  required,  however,  the  extreme  of  Julia's  powers  of 
disguise,  aided  by  Joseph's  frank  and  hearty  words  and  Mrs. 
Hopeton's  influence,  to  induce  Lucy  to  accept  the  invitation. 
Unable  to  explain  wholly  to  herself,  much  less  mention  to 
any  other,  the  instinct  which  held  her  back,  she  found  herself, 
finally,  placed  in  a  false  position,  and  then  resolved  to  blindly 
trust  that  she  was  doing  right,  inasmuch  as  she  could  not  make 
it  clear  that  she  was  doing  wrong.  Her  decision  once  taken, 
she  forcibly  banished  all  misgivings,  and  determined  to  find 
nothing  but  a  cheerful  and  restful  holiday  before  her. 

And,  indeed,  the  first  day  or  two  of  her  residence  at  the 
farm,  before  Joseph's  departure,  brought  her  a  more  agreea- 
ble experience  than  she  had  imagined.  Both  host  and  host- 


ess  were  busy,  tlie  latter  in  the  household  find  the  former  in 
the  fields,  and  when  they  met  at  meals  or  in  the  evening.  her 
presence  was  an  element  which  compelled  an  appearance  of 
harmony.  She  was  surprised  to  lind  so  ouiet  and  ordered  a 
life  in  two  persons  whom  she  had  imagined  to  be  miserably 
unfitted  for  each  other,  and  began  to  suspect  that  she  had 
been  seriously  mistaken. 

After  Joseph  left,  the  two  women  were  much  together. 
Julia  insisted  that  she  should  do  nothing,  and  amiably  pro- 
tested at  first  against  Lucy  giving  her  so  much,  of  her  society  ; 
but,  little  by  little,  the  companionship  was  extended  and  be- 
came more  frank  and  intimate.  Lucy  was  in  a  charitable 
mood,  and  found  it  very  easy  to  fancy  that  Julia's  character 
had  been  favorably  affected  by  the  graver  duties  which  had 
come  with  her  marriage.  Indeed,  Julia  found  many  indi- 
rect ways  of  hinting  as  much  :  she  feared  she  had  seemed 
flighty  (perhaps  a  little  shallow)  ;  looking  back  upon  her  past 
life  she  could  see  that  such  a  charge  would  not  be  unjust. 
Her  education  had  been  so  superficial ;  all  city  education  of 
young  women  was  false ;  they  were  taught  to  consider  ex- 
ternal appearances,  and  if  they  felt  a  void  in  their  nature 
which  these  would  not  fill,  whither  could  they  turn  for  coun- 
sel or  knowledge  ? 

Her  face  was  sad  and  thoughtful  while  she  so  spoke  ;  but 
when,  shaking  her  dark  curls  with  a  pretty  impatience,  she 
would  lift  her  head  and  ask,  with  a  smile  :  "  But  it  is  not 
too  late,  in  my  case,  is  it  ?  I'm  really  an  older  child,  you 
know," — Lucy  could  only  answer :  "  Since  you  know  what 
you  need,  it  can  never  be  too  late.  The  very  fact  that  you 
do  know,  proves  that  it  will  be  easy  for  you." 

Then  Julia  would  shake  her  head  again,  and  say,  "  O,  you 
are  too  kind,  Lucy ;  you  judge  my  nature  by  your  own." 


222  JOSEPH  A^D  HIS  FKIEND. 

When  the  friendly  relation  between  them  had  developed  a 
little  further,  Julia  became — though  still  with  a  modest  reti- 
cence— more  confiding  in  relation  to  Joseph. 

"  He  is  so  good,  so  very,  very  true  and  good,"  she  said,  one 
day,  "  that  it  grieves  me,  more  than  I  can  tell,  to  be  the  cause 
of  a  little  present  anxiety  of  his.  As  it  is  only  a  business 
matter,  some  exaggerated  report  of  which  you  have  probably 
heard  (for  I  know  there  have  been  foolish  stories  afloat  in 
the  neighborhood),  I  have  no  hesitation  about  confiding  it 
to  you.  Perhaps  you  can  advise  me  how  to  atone  for  my 
error ;  for,  if  it  was  an  error,  I  fear  it  cannot  be  remedied 
now  ;  if  not,  it  will  be  a  relief  to  me  to  confess  it." 

Thereupon  she  gave  a  minute  history  of  the  Amaranth 
speculation,  omitting  the  energy  of  her  persuasion  with 
Joseph,  and  presenting  very  strongly  her  father's  views  of  a 
sure  and  splendid  success  soon  to  follow.  "  It  was  for 
Joseph's  sake,"  she  concluded,  "  rather  than  my  own,  that 
I  advised  the  investment ;  though,  knowing  his  perfect  un- 
selfishness, I  fear  he  complied  only  for  mine.  He  had 
guessed  already,  it  seems  to  me  now,  that  we  women  like 
beauty  as  well  as  comfort  about  our  lives ;  otherwise,  he 
would  hardly  have  undertaken  these  expensive  improve- 
ments of  our  home.  But,  Lucy,  it  terrifies  me  to  think  that 
pa  and  Joseph  and  I  may  have  been  deceived  !  The  more  I 
shut  my  mind  against  the  idea  the  more  it  returns  to  torment 
me.  I,  who  brought  so  little  to  him,  to  be  the  instrument 
of  such  a  loss  !  O,  if  you  were  not  here,  how  could  I  en- 
dure the  anxiety  and  the  absence  ?  " 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  sobbed. 

"  I  know  Joseph  to  be  good  and  true,"  said  Lucy,  "  and  I 
believe  that  he  will  bear  the  loss  cheerfully,  if  it  should 
come.  But  it  is  never  good  to  '  borrow  trouble,'  as  we  say 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FlilKXD.  223 

in  the  country.  Neither  the  worst  nor  the  best  things 
which  we  imagine  ever  come  upon  us." 

"  You  are  wrong  !  "  cried  Julia,  starting  up  and  laughing 
gleefully  ;  "  I  Jiavfi  the  best  thing,  in  my  husband  !  And  yet, 
you  are  right,  too  :  no  worst  thing  can  come  to  me}  while  1 
keep  him  !  " 

Lucy  wished  to  visit  the  Hopetons  before  their  departure 
for  the  sea-shore,  and  Julia  was  quite  ready  to  accompany 
her.  Only,  with  the  wilfulness  common  to  all  selfish  na- 
tures, she  determined  to  arrange  the  matter  in  her  own  way. 
She  drove  away  alone  the  next  morning  to  the  post-office, 
with  a  letter  for  Joseph,  but  never  drew  rein  until  she  had 
reached  Coventry  Forge.  Philip  being  absent,  she  confided 
to  Madeline  Held  her  wish  (and  Lucy's)  that  they  should  all 
spend  an  afternoon  together,  on  the  banks  of  the  stream, — 
a  free  society  in  the  open  air  instead  of  a  formal  one  within 
doors.  Madeline  entered  into  the  plan  with  joyous  readi- 
ness, accepting  both  for  herself  and  for  Philip.  They  all  met 
together  too  rarely,  she  said  :  a  lunch  or  a  tea  under  the  trees 
would  be  delightful :  there  was  a  little  skiff  which  might  be 
borrowed,  and  they  might  even  catch  and  cook  their  own 
fish,  as  the  most  respectable  people  did  in  the  Adirondacks. 

Julia  then  drove  to  the  Hopetons  in  high  spirits.  Mr. 
Hopeton  found  the  proposed  party  very  pleasant,  and  said 
at  once  to  his  wife :  "  We  have  still  three  days,  my  dear : 
we  can  easily  spare  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Asten  is  very  kind,"  she  replied  j  "  and  her  propo- 
sition is  tempting:  but  I  should  not  like  to  go  without  you, 
and  I  thought  your  business  might — " 

"  O,  there  is  nothing  pressing,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  shall 
enjoy  it  exceedingly,  especially  the  boat,  and  the  chance  of 
landing  a  few  trout." 


224  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FRIEND. 

So  it  was  settled.  Lucy,  it  is  true,  felt  a  dissatisfaction 
which  she  could  scarcely  conceal,  and  possibly  did  not,  to 
Julia's  eyes ;  but  it  was  not  for  her  own  sake.  She  must 
seem  grateful  for  a  courtesy  meant  to  favor  both  herself  and 
her  friend,  and  a  little  reflection  reconciled  her  to  the  plan. 
Mrs.  Hopeton  dared  not  avoid  Philip  Held,  and  it  might  be 
well  if  she  carried  away  with  her  to  the  sea-shore  a  later  and 
less  alarming  memory  of  him.  Lucy's  own  desire  for  a  quiet 
talk  with  the  woman  in  whom  she  felt  such  a  loving  interest 
was  of  no  consequence,  if  this  was  the  result. 

They  met  in  the  afternoon,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
stream,  just  below  the  Forge,  where  a  little  bay  of  level 
shore,  shaded  by  superb  trees,  was  left  between  the  rocky 
bluffs.  Stumps  and  a  long-fallen  trunk  furnished  them  with 
rough  tables  and  seats ;  there  was  a  natural  fireplace  among 
some  huge  tumbled  stones ;  a  spring  of  icy  crystal  gushed 
out  from  the  foot  of  the  bluff;  and  the  shimmering,  mur- 
muring water  in  front,  with  the  meadows  beyond"  burning 
like  emerald  flame  in  the  sunshine,  offered  a  constant  delight 
to  the  senses. 

All  were  enchanted  with  the  spot,  which  Philip  and  Ma- 
deline claimed  as  their  discovery.  The  gypsy  spirit  awoke  in. 
them,  and  while  they  scattered  here  and  there,  possessed  with 
the  influences  of  the  place,  and  constantly  stumbling  upon 
some  new  charm  or  convenience,  Lucy  felt  her  heart  grow- 
light  for  her  friend,  and  the  trouble  of  her  own  life  subside. 
For  a  time  no  one  seemed  to  think  of  anything  but  the 
material  arrangements.  Mr.  Hopeton's  wine-flasks  were 
laid  in  the  spring  to  cool ;  Philip  improvised  a  rustic  table 
xipon  two  neighboring  stumps ;  rough  seats  were  made  com- 
fortable, dry  sticks  collected  for  fire-wood,  stores  iinpacked 
and  placed  in  readiness,  and  every  little  preliminary  of 


FRIEND.  22: 


labor,  insufferable  in  a  kitchen,  took  on  ics 
in  that  svlvnn  nook. 

Then  they  resred  from  th>-ir  work.  Mr.  Hopeton  and 
Philip  lighted  cigars  and  sat  to  leeward,  while  the  four 
ladies  kept  their  lingers  busy  with  bunches  of  maiden-hair 
and  faint  wildwood  blossoms,  as  tliey  talked.  It  really 
seemed  as  if  a  peace  and  joy  from  beyond  their  lives  had 
fallen  upon  them.  Madeline  believed  so,  and  Lucy  hoped 
so :  let  us  hope  so,  too,  and  not  lift  at  once  the  veil  which 
was  folded  so  closely  over  two  restless  hearts  ! 

Mr.  Hopetoii  threw  away  the  stump  of  his  cigar,  adjusted 
his  fishing-tackle,  and  said :  "  If  we  are  to  have  a  trout 
supper,  I  must  begin  to  troll  at  once." 

"  May  I  go  with  you  ?  "  his  wife  asked. 

"  Yes,"  lie  answered,  smiling,  "  if  you  will  not  be  nervous. 
But  I  hardly  need  to  make  that  stipulation  with  you,  Emily." 

Philip  assisted  her  into  the  unsteady  little  craft,  which 
•was  fastened  to  a  tree.  Mr.  Hopetoii  seated  himself  care- 
fully, took  the  two  light,  short  oars,  and  held  himself  from 
the  shore,  while  Philip  loosened  the  rope. 

"I  shall  row  up  stream,"  he  said,  "and  then  float  back  to 
you,  trolling  as  I  come.  When  I  see  you  again,  I  hope  I 
can  ask  you  to  have  the  coals  ready." 

Slowly,  and  not  very  skilfully,  he  worked  his  way  against 
the  current,  and  passed  out  of  sight  around  a  bend  in  the 
stream.  Philip  watched  Mrs.  Hopeton's  slender  figure  as 
she  sat  in  the  stern,  listlessly  trailing  one  hand  in  the  water. 
"  Does  she  feel  that  my  eyes,  my  thoughts,  are  following 
her  ?  "  he  asked;  but  she  did  not  once  turn  her  head. 

"  Philip !  "  cried  Madeline,  "  here  are  three  forlorn  maid- 
ens, and  you  the  only  Sir  Isurnbras,  or  whoever  is  the 
proper  knight !     Are  you  looking  into  the  stream,  expecting 
10* 


226  JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FKIEXD. 

the  'damp  woman'  to  arise?  She  only  rises  for  fishermen: 
she  will  come  up  and  drag  Mr.  Hopeton  down.  Let  me 
invoke  the  real  nymph  of  this  stream  !  "  She  sang  : — 

"Sabrina  fair, 

Listen  whore  them  art  sitting 
Under  the  glassy,  cool,  translucent  wave, 

In  twisted  braids  of  lilies  knitting 
The  loose  train  of  thy  amber-dropping  hair ; 
Listen  for  dear  honor's  sake, 
Goddess  of  the  silver  lake, 
Listen  and  save  !  " 

Madeline  did  not  know  what  she  was  doing.  She  could 
not  remark  Philip's  paleness  in  the  dim  green  light  where 
they  sat,  but  she  was  struck  by  the  startled  expression  of 
his  eyes. 

"  One  would  think  you  really  expected  Sabrina  to  come," 
she  laughed.  "Miss  Henderson,  too,  looks  as  if  I  had 
frightened  her.  You  and  I,  Mrs.  Asten,  are  the  only  cool, 
unimaginative  brains  in  the  party.  But  perhaps  it  was  all 
owing  to  my  poor  voice  ?  Come  now,  confess  it !  I  don't 
expect  you  to  say, — 

'  Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth's  mould 
Breathe  such  divine,  enchanting  ravishment  ? ' " 

"  I  was  trying  to  place  the  song,"  said  Lucy ;  "  I  read  it 
once." 

"  If  any  one  could  evoke  a  spirit,  Madeline,"  Philip  re- 
plied, "  it  would  be  you.  But  the  spirit  would  be  no 
nymph ;  it  would  have  little  horns  and  hoofs,  and  you 
would  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  it  again." 

They  all  laughed  at  this,  and  presently,  at  Julia's  sugges- 
tion, arranged  the  wood  they  had  collected,  and  kindled  a 
fire.  It  required  a  little  time  and  patience  to  secure  a 
strong  blaze,  and  in  the  great  interest  which  the  task  called 
forth  the  Hopetons  were  forgotten. 


227 

At  last  Philip  stopped  back,  heated  and  half  stifled,  for  a 
breath  of  fresher  air,  and,  turning,  saw  the  boat  between 
the  trees  gliding  down  the  stream.  "  There  they  are  !  "  he 
cried  ;  "  now,  to  know  our  luck  !  " 

The  boat  was  in  midstream,  not  far  from  a  stony  strip 
which  rose  above  the  water.  Mrs.  Hopeton  sat  musing  with 
her  hands  in  her  lap,  while  her  husband,  resting  on  his 
knees  and  one  hand,  leaned  over  the  bow,  watching  the  fly 
which  trailed  at  the  end  of  his  line.  He  seemed  to  bo 
quite  unconscious  that  an  oar,  which  had  slowly  loosened 
itself  from  the  lock,  was  floating  away  behind  the  boat. 

"  You  are  losing  your  oars  !  "    Philip  cried. 

Mr.  Hopeton.  started,  as  from  a  dream  of  trout,  dropped 
his  line  and  stretched  forward  suddenly  to  grasp  the  oar. 
The  skiff  was  too  light  and  unbalanced  to  support  the  mo- 
tion. It  rocked  threateningly ;  Mrs.  Hopeton,  quite  forget- 
ting herself,  started  to  her  feet,  and,  instantly  losing  her 
equilibrium,  was  thrown  headlong  into  the  deeper  water. 
The  skiff  whirled  back,  turned  over,  and  before  Mr.  Hope- 
ton  was  aware  of  what  had  happened,  he  plunged  full  length, 
face  downwards,  into  the  shallower  current. 

It  was  all  over  before  Madeline  and  Lucy  reached  the 
bank,  and  Philip  was  already  in  the  stream.  A  few  strokes 
brought  him  to  Mrs.  Hopeton,  who  struggled  with  the  cur- 
rent as  she  rose  to  the  surface,  but  made  no  outcry.  No 
sooner  had  she  touched  Philip  than  she  seized  and  locked 
him  in  her  arms,  and  he  was  dragged  down  again  with  her. 
It  was  only  the  physical  clinging  to  life  :  if  some  feeble  re- 
cognition at  that  moment  told  her  whose  was  the  form  she 
held  and  made  powerless,  it  could  not  have  abated  an  atom 
of  her  frantic,  instinctive  force. 

Philip  felt  that  they  had  drifted  into  water  beyond  his 


228  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

depth.  With  groat  exertion  he  freed  his  right  arm  and 
sustained  himself  and  her  a  moment  at  the  surface.  Mrs. 
Hopeton's  head  was  on  his  shoulder ;  her  hair  drifted 
against  his  face,  and  even  the  desperation  of  the  struggle 
could  not  make  him  insensible  to  the  warmth  of  her  breast 
upon  his  own.  A  wild  thought  flashed  upon  and  stung  his 
brain  :  she  was  his  at  last — his  in.  death,  if  not  in  life  ! 

His  arm  slackened,  and  they  sank  slowly  together.  Heart 
and  brain  were  illuminated  with  blinding  light,  and  the 
swift  succession  of  his  thoughts  compressed  an  age  into  the 
fragment  of  a  second.  Yes,  she  was  his  now  :  clasping  him 
as  he  clasped,  their  hearts  beating  against  each  other,  with 
ever  slower  pulsations,  until  they  should  freeze  into  one. 
The  world,  with  its  wrongs  and  prejudices,  lay  behind  them; 
the  past  was  past,  and  only  a  short  and  painless  atonement 
intervened  between  the  immortal  possession  of  souls  !  Bet- 
ter that  it  should  end  thus :  he  had  not  sought  this  solution, 
but  he  would  not  thrust  it  from  him. 

But,  even  as  his  mind  accepted  it,  and  with  a  sense  of 
perfect  peace,  Le  heard  Joseph's  voice,  saying,  "  We  must 
shape  our  lives  according  to  the  law  which  is  above,  not 
that  which  is  below  us."  Through  the  air  and  the  water,  on 
the  very  rock  which  now  overhung  his  head,  he  again  saw- 
Joseph  bending,  and  himself  creeping  towards  him  with  out- 
stretched hand.  Ha!  who  was  the  coward  now?  And 
again  Joseph  spake,  and  his  words  were :  "  The  very  wrong 
that  has  come  upon  us  makes  God  necessary."  God?  Then 
how  would  God  in  his  wisdom  fashion  their  future  life  ? 
Must  they  sweep  eternally,  locked  in  an  unsevering  embrace, 
like  Paolo  and  Francesca,  around  some  dreary  circle  of 
hell  ?  Or  must  the  manner  of  entering  that  life  together 
be  the  act  to  separate  them  eternally  ?  Only  the  inevitable 


act  dare  ask  for  pardon;  but  h-'.-re,  if  not  will  or  purpose, 
was  at  least  submission  without  ivsiotiiiice !  Then  ic  seemed 
to  him  that  Madeline's  voice  came  aL'ain  to  him,  ringing  like 
a  trumpet  through  tho  waters,  as  she  sang: — 


He  pressed  his  lips  to  Mrs.  Hopeton's  unconscious  brow, 
his  heart  saying,  "  Xever,  never  again  ! ''  released  himself  by 
a  sudden,  powerful  eit'ort,  seized  her  safely,  as  a  practised 
swimmer,  shot  into  light  and  air,  and  made  for  the  shallower 
side  of  the  stream.  The  upturned  skiiF  was  now  within 
reach,  and  all  danger  was  over. 

"Who  could  guess  that  the  crisis  of  a  soul  had  been  reached 
and  passed  in  that  breath  of  time  under  the  surface  ?  Julia's 
long,  shrill  scream  had  scarcely  come  to  an  end ;  Mr.  Hope- 
ton,  bewildered  by  his  fall,  was  trying  to  run  towards  them 
through  water  up  to  his  waist,  and  Lucy  and  Madeline 
looked  on,  holding  their  breath  in  an  agony  of  suspense. 
In  another  moment  Philip  touched  bottom,  and  raising  Mrs. 
Hopeton  in  his  arms,  carried  her  to  the  opposite  bank. 

She  was  faint  and  stunned,  but  not  unconscious.  She 
passively  allowed  Philip  to  support  her  until  Mr.  Hopeton, 
struggling  through  the  shallows,  drew  near  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  terror  and  concern  on  his  broad  face.  Then, 
breaking  from  Philip,  she  half  fell,  half  flung  herself  into 
his  arms,  laid  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  burst  into  a 
fit  of  hysterical  weeping. 

Tears  began  to  run  down  the  honest  man's  cheeks,  and 
Philip,  turning  away,  busied  himself  with  righting  the  boat 
and  recovering  the  oars. 

"  O,  my  darling  !  "  said  Mr.  Hopeton,  "  what  should  I  do 
if  I  had  lost  you  ?  " 


230  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEXD. 

"  Hold  me,  keep  me,  love  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  must  not 
leave  you  !  " 

He  lield  her  in  his  arms,  he  kissed  her,  he  soothed  her 
with  endearing  words.  She  grew  calm,  lifted  her  head,  and 
looked  in  his  eyes  with  a  light  which  he  had  never  yet  seen 
in  them.  The  man's  nature  was  moved  and  stirred :  his 
lips  trembled,  and  the  tears  still  slowly  trickled  from  his 
eyes. 

"  Let  me  set  you  over  ! "  Philip  called  from  the  stream. 
"  The  boat  is  wet,  but  then  neither  of  us  is  dry.  We  have, 
fortunately,  a  good  fire  until  the  carriage  can  be  brought  for 
Mrs.  Hopeton,  and  your  wine  will  be  needed  at  once." 

They  had  no  trout,  nor  indeed  any  refreshment,  except 
the  wine.  Philip  tried  to  rally  the  spirits  of  the  party,  but 
Julia  was  the  only  one  who  at  all  seconded  his  efforts ;  the 
others  had  been  too  profoundly  agitated.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hopeton  were  grave ;  it  seemed  scarcely  possible  for  them 
to  speak,  and  yet,  as  Lucy  remarked  with  amazement,  the 
faces  of  both  were  bright  and  serene. 

"  I  shall  never  invoke  another  water-nymph,"  said  Made- 
line, as  they  were  leaving  the  spot. 

"  Yes  !  "  Philip  cried,  "  always  invoke  Sabrina,  and  the 
daughter  of  Locriiie  will  arise  for  you,  as  she  arose  to-day." 

"That  is,  not  at  all?" 

"  No,"  said  Philip,  «  she  arose." 


JOSEPH    AND    III>    FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

KANUCK. 

WHEN  lie  set  forth  upon  his  journey,  Joseph  had  enough 
of  natural  shrewdness  to  perceive  that  his  own  personal 
interest  in  the  speculation  were  better  kept  secret.  The 
position  of  the  Amaranth  property,  inserted  like  a  wedge 
between  the  Fluke  and  Chowder  Companies,  was  all  the  geog- 
raphy he  needed ;  and  he  determined  to  assume  the  character 
of  a  curious  traveller, — at  least  for  a  day  or  two, — to  keep 
his  eyes  and  ears  open,  and  learn  as  much  as  might  be  possi- 
ble to  one  outside  the  concentric  "  rings "  of  oil  operations. 

He  reached  Corry  without  adventure,  and  took  passage  in 
the  train  to  Oil  City,  intending  to  make  the  latter  place  the 
starting-point  of  his  investigations.  The  car  was  crowded, 
and  his  companion  on  the  seat  was  a  keen,  witty,  red-faced 
man,  with  an  astonishing  diamond  pin  and  a  gold  watch- 
chain  heavy  enough  to  lift  an  anchor.  He  was  too  restless, 
too  full  of  "  operative  "  energy,  to  travel  in  silence,  as  is  the 
universal  and  most  dismal  American  habit;  and  before  they 
passed  three  stations  he  had  extracted  from  Joseph  the 
facts  that  he  was  a  stranger,  that  he  intended  visiting  the 
principal  wells,  and  that  he  might  possibly  (Joseph  allowing 
the  latter  point  to  be  inferred)  be  tempted  to  invest  some- 
thing, if  the  aspects  were  propitious. 

"  You  must  be  sure  to  take  a  look  at  my  wells,"  said  the 
stranger ;  "  not  that  any  of  our  stock  is  in  the  market, — it  is 
never  offered  to  the  public,  unless  accidentally, — but  they 
will  give  you  an  illustration  of  the  magnitude  of  the  business. 


232  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 


everidge  run'),  aud  so  it  was  reported  of  onru.  But  since 
we've  begun  to  torpedo  them,  it's  almost  equal  to  the  first 
tapping,  though  I  don't  suppose  it'll  hold  out  so  long." 

"Are  the  torpedoes  generally  used?"  Joseph  asked,  in 
some  surprise. 

"  They're  generally  tried,  anyhow.  The  cute  fellow  who 
first  hit  upon  the  idea  meant  to  keep  it  dark,  but  the  oilers, 
you'll  find,  have  got  their  teeth  skinned,  and  what  they  can't 
find  out  isn't  worth  finding  out !  Lord  !  I  torpedoed  my 
wells  at  midnight,  and  it  wasn't  a  week  before  the  Fluke 
was  at  it,  bustiii'  and  bustin'  all  their  dry  auger-holes  !  " 

"  The  what !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  Fluke.  Queer  name,  isu't  it  ?  Exit  that's  nothing : 
we  have  the  Crinoline,  the  Pipsissaway,  the  Mud-Lark,  and 
the  Sunburst,  between  vis  and  Tideoute." 

"  What  is  the  name  of  your  company,  if  I  may  ask  ?  " 

"  About  as  queer  as  any  of  'em, — the  Chowder." 

Joseph  started,  in  spite  of  himself.  "  It  seems  to  me  I 
have  heard  of  that  company,"  he  managed  to  say. 

"  O  no  doubt,"  replied  the  stranger.  "  'T  isn't  often, 
quoted  in  the  papers,  but  it's  known.  I  'm  rather  proud  of 
it,  for  I  got  it  up.  I  was  boring — boss,  though — at  three 
dollars  a  day,  two  years  ago,  and  now  I  have  my  forty  thou- 
sand a  year,  l  free  of  income  tax,'  as  the  Insurance  Compa- 
nies say.  But  then,  where  one  is  lucky  like  the  Chowder,  a 
hundred  busts." 

Joseph  rapidly  collected  himself  while  the  mau  was  speak- 
ing. "  I  should  very  much  like  to  see  your  wells,"  he  said. 
"  Will  yoxi  be  there  a  day  or  two  from  now  ?  My  name  is 
Asten, — not  that  you  have  ever  heard  of  it  before." 


JOSEm    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  233 

"  Shall  be  glad  to  hear  it  again,  though,  and  to  see  you," 
said  the  man.  "  My  name  is  IJIcnkinsop." 

Again  it  was  all  that  Joseph  could  do  to  restrain  his 
astonishment. 

"  1  suppose  you  are  the  President  of  the  Chowder?  "  he 
ventured  to  say. 

"  Yes,''  Mr.  Blenkinsop  answered,  ''  since  it's  a  company. 
It  was  all  mine  at  the  start,  but  I  wanted  capital,  and  1  had 
to  work  'em." 

"  What  other  important  companies  are  there  near  you  ?  " 

"  IN  one  of  any  account,  except  the  Fluke  and  the  Depravity. 
They  now  tolerable  now,  after  torpedoing.  To  be  sure,  there 
are  kites  and  catches  with  all  sorts  o'  names,- — the  Penny- 
royal, the  Ruby,  the  Wallholler  (whatever  that  is),  and  the 
Amaranth, — ha,  ha  !  " 

"  I  think  1  have  heard  of  the  Amaranth,"  Joseph  mildly 
remarked. 

"Lord!  axe  you  bit  already?"  Mr.  Blenkinsop  exclaim- 
ed, fixing  his  small,  sharp  eyes  on  Joseph's  face. 

"  I — I  really  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  No  offence  :  I  thought  it  likely,  that's  all.  The  Ama- 
ranth is  Kanuck's  last  dodge.  He  keeps  mighty  close,  but 
if  he  don't  feather  his  nest  in  a  hurry,  at  somebody's  ex- 
pense, I  ain't  no  judge  o'  men  !  " 

Joseph  did  not  dare  to  mention  the  Amaranth  again.  He 
parted  with  Mr.  Blenkinsop  at  Tarr  Farm,  and  went  on  to 
Oil  City,  where  he  spent  a  day  in  unprofitable  wanderings, 
and  then  set  out  up  the  river,  first  to  seek  the  Chowder 
wells,  and  afterwards  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  any 
perennial  beauty  in  the  Amaranth. 

The  first  thing  which  he  remarked  was  the  peculiar  topog- 
raphy of  the  region.  The  Chowder  property  was  a  sloping 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

bottom,  gradually  rising  from  the  river  to  a  range  of  high 
hills  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  rear.  Just  above  this  point 
the  river  made  a  sharp  horseshoe  bend,  washing  the  foot  of 
the  hills  for  a  considerable  distance,  and  then  curving  back 
again,  with  a  second  tract  of  bottom-land  beyond.  On  the 
latter,  he  was  informed,  the  Fluke  wells  were  located.  The 
inference  was  therefore  irresistible  that  the  Amaranth  Com- 
pany must  be  the  happy  possessor  of  the  lofty  section  of  hills 
dividing  the  two. 

"  Do  they  get  oil  up  there  ?  "  he  asked  of  Blenkinsop's 
foreman,  pointing  to  the  ragged,  barren  heights. 

"  They  may  get  skunk  oil,  or  rattle-snake  oil,"  the  man 
answered.  "  Them'll  do  to  peddle,  but  you  can't  fill  tanks 
with  'em.  I  hear  they've  got  a  company  for  that  place, — 
tli'  Amaranth,  they  call  it, — but  any  place'll  do  for  derned 
fools.  Why,  look  'ee  here  !  TFe've  got  seven  hundred  feet 
to  bore  :  now,  jest  put  twelve  hundred  more  atop  o'  that,  and 
guess  whether  they  can  even  pump  oil,  with  the  Chowder 
and  Fluke  both  sides  of  'em  !  But  it  does  for  green  'uns,  as 
well  as  any  other  place." 

Joseph  laughed, — a  most  feeble,  unnatural,  ridiculous 
laugh. 

"I'll  walk  over  that  way  to  the  Fluke,"  he  said.  "I 
should  like  to  see  how  such  things  are  managed." 

"  Then  be  a  little  on  your  guard  with  Kanuck,  if  you 
meet  him,"  the  man  good-naturedly  advised.  "  Don't  ask 
him  too  many  questions." 

It  was  a  hot,  wearisome  climb  to  the  timber-skeletons  on 
the  summit  (more  like  gibbets  than  anything  else),  which 
denoted  shafts  to  the  initiated  as  well  as  the  ignorant  eye. 
There  were  a  dozen  or  more,  but  all  were  deserted. 

Joseph  wandered  from  one  to  the  other,  asking  himself, 


JOSEPH  AXD  ins  FRIKXD.  235 

as  lie  inspected  each,  '"'  Is  this  the  splendid  speculation?" 
What  was  there  iu  that  miserable,  shabby,  stony  region,  a 
hundred  acres  of  which  would  hardly  pasture  a  cow,  whence 
wealth  should  come  ?  Verily,  as  stony  and  as  barren  were 
the  natures  of  the  men,  who  on  this  wretched  basis  built 
their  cheating  schemes  ! 

A  little  farther  on  he  came  to  a  deep  ravine,  cleaving  the 
hills  in  twain.  There  was  another  skeleton  in  its  bed,  but 
several  shabby  individuals  were  gathered  about  it, — the 
first  sign  of  life  or  business  he  had  yet  discovered. 

He  hastened  down  the  steep  declivity,  the  warning  of  the 
Chowder  foreman  recurring  to  his  mind,  yet  it  seemed  so 
difficult  to  fix  his  policy  in  advance  that  he  decided  to  leave 
everything  to  chance.  As  he  approached  he  saw  that  the 
men  were  laborers,  with  the  exception  of  a  tall,  lean  indivi- 
dual, who  looked  like  an  unfortunate  clergyman.  He  had  a 
sallow  face,  lighted  by  small,  restless,  fiery  eyes,  which  re- 
minded Joseph,  when  they  turned  upon  him,  of  those  of  a 
black  snake.  His  greeting  was  cold  and  constrained,  and 
his  manner  said  plainly,  "The  sooner  you  leave  the  better  I 
shall  be  satisfied." 

"  This  is  a  rough  country  for  walking,"  said  Joseph ; 
"  how  much  farther  is  it  to  the  Fluke  wells  ?  " 

"  Just  a  bit,"  said  one  of  the  workmen. 

Joseph  took  a  seat  on  a  stone,  with  the  air  of  one  who 
needed  rest.  "  This  well,  I  suppose,"  he  remarked,  "  be- 
longs to  the  Amaranth  ?  " 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?  "  asked  the  lean,  dark  man. 

"  They  said  below,  at  the  Chowder,  that  the  Amaranth 
was  up  here." 

"  Did  Blenkinsop  send  you  this  way  ?  "  the  man  asked 
again. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

"  Xobody  sent  me,"  Joseph  replied.  "  I  am  a  stranger, 
taking  a  look  at  the  oil  country.  I  liave  never  before  been 
in  this  part  of  the  State." 

"  May  I  ask  your  name?  " 

"  Asten,"  said  Joseph,  unthinkingly. 

"  Asten  !  I  think  I  know  where  that  name  belongs.  Let 
me  see." 

The  man  pulled  out  a  large  dirty  envelope  from  his 
breast-pocket,  ran  over  several  papers,  unfolded  one,  and 
presently  asked, — 

"  Joseph  Asten  ?  " 

"  Yes."  (Joseph  set  his  teeth,  and  silently  cursed  his 
want  of  forethought.) 

"  Proprietor  of  ten  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stock  in 
the  Amaranth  !  Who  sent  you  here  ?  " 

His  tone,  though  meant  to  be  calm,  was  fierce  and  mena- 
cing. Joseph  rose,  scanned  the  faces  of  the  workmen,  who 
listened  with  a  malicious  curiosity,  and  finally  answered, 
with  a  candor  which  seemed  to  impress,  while  it  evidently 
disappointed  the  questioner : — 

"  No  one  sent  me,  and  no  one,  beyond  my  own  family, 
knows  that  I  am  here.  I  am  a  farmer,  not  a  speculator.  I 
was  induced  to  take  the  stock  from  representations  which 
have  not  been  fulfilled,  and  which,  I  am  now  convinced, 
never  will  be  fulfilled.  My  habit  is,  when  I  cannot  get  the 
truth  from  others,  to  ascertain  it  for  myself.  I  presume 
you  are  Mr.  Kanuck  ?  " 

The  man  did  not  answer  immediately,  but  the  quick, 
intelligent  glance  of  one  of  the  workmen  showed  Joseph 
that  liis  surmise  was  correct.  Mr.  Kanuck  conversed  apart 
with  the  men,  apparently  giving  private  orders,  and  then 
said,  with  a  constrained  civility:  — 


JOKI'H    AND    III.-    FKIKXIX  237 

"If  you  arc  bound  fur  the  Fluke,  Mr.  Asten,  I  will  join 
you.  I  am  also  going  in  that  direction,  and  \ve  can  talk  on 
the  way." 

They  toiled  up  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine  in  silence. 
When  they  had  reached  the  top  and  taken  breath,  Mr. 
Kanuck  commenced  : — • 

"  I  must  infer  that  you  have  little  faith  in  anything  being 
realized  from  the  Amaranth.  Any  man,  ignorant  of  the 
technicalities  of  boring,  might  be  discouraged  by  the  external 
appearance  of  things;  and  I  shall  therefore  not  endeavor  to 
explain  to  you  my  grounds  of  hope,  unless  you  will  agree  to 
join  me  for  a  month  or  two  and  become  practically  ac- 
quainted with  the  locality  and  the  modes  of  labor." 

"That  is  unnecessary,"  Joseph  replied. 

"You  being  a  farmer,  of  course  1  could  not  expect  it. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  think  I  can  appreciate  your, — disap- 
pointment, if  we  must  call  it  so,  and  I  should  be  willing, 
under  certain  conditions,  to  save  you,  not  from  positive  loss, 
because  I  do  not  admit  the  possibility  of  that,  but  from 
what,  at  present,  may  seem  loss  to  you.  Do  I  make  my 
meaning  clear?" 

"  Entirely,"  Joseph  replied,  "  except  as  to  the  conditions." 

"  We  are  dealing  on  the  square,  I  take  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Kanuck,  "  I  need  only  intimate  to  you 
how  important  it  is  that  I  should  develop  our  prospects. 
To  do  this,  the  faith  of  the  principal  stockholders  must  not 
be  disturbed,  otherwise  the  funds  without  which  the  pros- 
pects cannot  be  developed .  may  fail  me  at  the  critical 
moment.  Your  hasty  and  unintelligent  impressions,  if  ex- 
pressed in  a  reckless  manner,  might  do  much  to  bring  about 
such  a  catastrophe.  I  must  therefore  stipulate  that  you 


238  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FEIEXD. 

keep  sucli  impressions  to  yourself.  Let  me  speak  to  you 
as  man  to  man,  and  ask  you  if  your  expressions,  not  being 
founded  on  knowledge,  would  be  honest  ?  So  far  from  it, 
you  will  be  bound  in  all  fairness,  in  consideration  of  my 
releasing  you  and  restoring  you  what  you  have  ventured,  to 
adopt  and  disseminate  the  views  of  an  expert, — namely, 
mine." 

"Let  me  put  it  into  fewer  words,"  said  Joseph.  "You 
will  buy  my  stock,  repaying  me  what  I  have  disbursed,  if, 
on  my  return,  I  say  nothing  of  what  1  have  seen,  and  ex- 
press my  perfect  faith  (adopting  your  views)  in  the  success 
of  the  Amaranth  ?  " 

"  You  have  stated  the  conditions  a  little  barely,  perhaps, 
but  not  incorrectly.  I  only  ask  for  perfect  fairness,  as  be- 
tween man  and  man." 

"  One  question  first,  Mr.  Kanuck.  Does  Mr.  Blessing 
know  the  real  prospects  of  the  Amaranth  ?  " 

"  No  man  more  thoroughly,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Asten. 
Indeed,  without  Mr.  Blessing's  enthusiastic  concurrence  in 
the  enterprise,  I  doubt  whether  we  could  have  carried  the 
work  so  far  towards  success.  His  own  stock,  I  may  say  to 
you, — since  we  understand  each  other, — was  earned  by  his 
efforts.  If  you  know  him  intimately,  you  know  also  that 
he  has  no  visible  means  of  support.  But  he  has  what  is 
much  more  important  to  us, — a  thorough  knowledge  of 
men  and  their  means." 

He  rubbed  his  hands,  and  laughed  softly.  They  had  beeii 
walking  rapidly  during  the  conversation,  and  now  came  sud- 
denly upon  the  farthest  crest  of  the  hills,  where  the  ridge 
fell  away  to  the  bottom  occupied  by  the  Fluke  wells.  Both 
paused  at  this  point. 

"On  the  square,  then!"  said  Mr.  Kanuck,  offering  his 


239 

hand.  "  TV11  me  where  you  will  be  to-morrow  morni:i_', 
and  our  business  can  be  settled  in  five  minutes.  You  will 
carry  out  your  part  of  the  bargain,  as  man  to  man,  when  you 
find  that  I  carry  out  mine." 

''  Do  you  take  me  for  an  infernal  scoundrel  ? "  cried 
Joseph,  boiling  over  with  disgust  and  rage. 

Mr.  Kanuck  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two.  His  sallow  face 
became  livid,  and  there  was  murder  in  his  eyes.  He  put 
his  hand  into  his  breast,  and  Joseph,  facing  him,  involunta- 
rily did  the  same.  Xot  until  long  afterwards,  when  other 
experiences  had  taught  him  the  significance  of  the  move- 
ment, did  he  remember  what  it  then  meant. 

"  So  !  that's  your  game,  is  it  ?  "  his  antagonist  said,  hiss- 
ing the  words  through  his  teeth.  "  A  spy,  after  all !  Or  a 
detective,  perhaps  ?  I  was  a  fool  to  trust  a  milk-and-water 
face  :  but  one  thing  I  tell  you, —  you  may  get  away,  but 
come  back  again  if  you  dare  !  " 

Joseph  said  nothing,  but  gazed  steadily  in  the  man's  eyes, 
and  did  not  move  from  his  position  so  long  as  he  was  within 
sight.  Then,  breathing  deeply,  as  if  relieved  from  the  dread 
of  an  unknown  danger,  lie  swiftly  descended  the  hill. 

That  evening,  as  he  sat  in  the  bar-room  of  a  horrible 
shanty  (called  a  hotel),  farther  up  the  river,  he  noticed  a 
pair  of  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  him  :  they  belonged  to  one 
of  the  workmen  in  the  Amaranth  ravine.  The  man  made 
an  almost  imperceptible  signal,  and  left  the  room.  Joseph 
followed  him. 

"  Hush  !  "  whispered  the  former.  "  Don't  come  back  to 
the  hill ;  and  get  away  from  here  to-morrow  morning,  if  you 
can ! "  With  these  words  he  darted  off  and  disappeared  in 
the  darkness. 

The  counsel  was  unnecessary.     Joseph,  with  all  his  inex- 


240  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

peiience  of  the  world,  saw  plainly  that  his  only  alternatives 
were  loss  —  or  connivance.  Nothing  was  to  be  gained  by 
following  the  vile  business  any  further.  He  took  the  earli- 
est possible  train,  and  by  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day 
found  himself  again  in  the  city. 

He  was  conscious  of  no  desire  to  meet  Mr.  Blessing,  yet 
the  pressure  of  his  recent  experience  seemed  to  drive  him 
irresistibly  in  that  direction.  When  he  rang  the  bell,  it  was 
with  the  hope  that  he  should  find  nobody  at  home.  Mr. 
Blessing,  however,  answered  the  summons,  and  after  the  first 
expression  of  surprise,  ushered  him  into  the  parlor. 

"  I  am  quite  alone,"  he  said ;  "  Mrs.  Blessing  is  passing 
the  evening  with  her  sister,  Mrs.  Woollish,  and  Clementina 
is  still  at  Long  Branch.  I  believe  it  is  as  good  as  settled 
that  we  are  to  lose  her ;  at  least  she  has  written  to  inquire 
the  extent  of  my  available  funds,  which,  in  her  case,  is  tanta- 
mount to  —  very  much  more." 

Joseph  determined  to  avoid  all  digressions,  and  insist  on 
the  Amaranth  speculation,  once  for  all,  being  clearly  dis- 
cussed. He  saw  that  his  father-in-law  became  more  uneasy 
and  excited  as  he  advanced  in  the  story  of  his  journey,  and, 
when  it  was  concluded,  did  not  seem  immediately  prepared 
to  reply.  His  suspicions,  already  aroused  by  Mr.  Kanuck's 
expressions,  were  confirmed,  and  a  hard,  relentless  feeling  of 
hostility  took  possession  of  his  heart. 

"I  —  I  really  must  look  into  this,"  Mr.  Blessing  stam- 
mered, at  last.  "  It  seems  incredible :  pardon  me,  but  I  woxild 
doubt  the  statements,  did  they  come  from  other  lips  than 
yours.  It  is  as  if  I  had  nursed  a  dove  in  my  bosom,  and 
unexpectedly  found  it  to  be  a  —  a  basilisk  !  " 

"  It  can  be  no  serious  loss  to  you,"  said  Joseph,  "  since 
you  received  your  stock  in  return  for  services." 


JOSEPH    AND    JUS    FRIEND.  24:1 

"That  is  true:  I  was  not  thinking  of  myself.  The  real 
sting  of  the  cockatrice  is,  that  I  have  innocently  misled  you."" 

"Yet  I  understood  you  to  say  you  had  ventured  vo'u- 
all  ?  " 

"  My  all  of  hope  —  my  all  of  expectation  !  "  Mr.  Blessim; 
cried.  "I  dreamed  I  had  overtaken  the  rainbow  at  last; 
but  this  —  this  is  senna  —  quassia  —  aloes  !  My  nature  is 
so  confiding  that  I  accept  the  possibilities  of  the  future  as 
present  realities,  and  build  upon  them  as  if  they  were  Quin- 
cy  granite.  And  yet,  with  all  my  experience,  my  acknow- 
ledged sagacity,  my  acquaintance  with  the  hidden  labyrinths 
of  finance,  it  seems  impossible  that  I  can  be  so  deceived  ! 
There  must  be  some  hideous  misunderstanding:  I  have  cal- 
culated all  the  elements,  prognosticated  all  the  planetary  as- 
pects, so  to  speak,  and  have  not  found  a  whisper  of  failure  !  " 

"You  omitted  one  very  important  element,"  Joseph  said. 

"What  is  that?  I  might  have  employed  a  detective,  it 
is  true — " 

"  No  !  "  Joseph  replied.     "  Honesty  !  " 

Mr.  Blessing  fell  back  in  his  chair,  weeping  bitterly. 

"  I  deserve  this  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  will  not  resent  it. 
I  forgive  you  in  advance  of  the  time  when  you  shall  recog- 
nize my  sincere,  my  heartfelt  wish  to  serve  you  !  Go,  go : 
let  me  not  recriminate  !  I  meant  to  be,  and  still  mean  to 
be,  your  friend  :  but  spare  my  too  confiding  child  !  " 

Without  a  word  of  good-by,  Joseph  took  his  hat  and  has- 
tened from  the  house.  At  every  step  the  abyss  of  dishonesty 
seemed  to  open  deeper  before  his  feet.  Spare  the  too  con- 
fiding child  !  Father  and  daughter  were  alike  :  both  mean, 
both  treacherous,  both  unpardonably  false. to  him. 

With  such  feelings  he  left  the  city  next  morning,  and 

made  his  way  homewards. 
11 


242  JOSEPH   AND    HIS    FKIEND. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

JULIA'S      EXPERIMENT. 

IN  the  mean  time  the  Hopetons  had  left  for  the  sea-shore, 
and  the  two  women,  after  a  drive  to  Magnolia,  remained 
quietly  on  the  farm.  Julia  employed  the  days  in  studying 
Lucy  with  a  soft,  stealthy,  unremitting  watchfulness  which 
the  latter  could  not  suspect,  since,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  a 
faculty  quite  unknown  to  her,  and,  secondly,  it  would  have 
seemed  absurd  because  inexplicable.  Neither  could  she 
guess  with  what  care  Julia's  manner  and  conversation  were 
adapted  to  her  own.  She  was  only  surprised  to  find  so 
much  earnest  desire  to  correct  faults,  such  artless  transpa- 
rency of  nature.  Thus  an  interest  quite  friendly  took  the 
place  of  her  former  repulsion  of  feeling,  of  which  she  began, 
to  be  sincerely  ashamed. 

Moreover,  Julia's  continual  demonstration  of  her  love  for 
Joseph,  from  which  Lucy  at  first  shrank  with  a  delicate 
tremor  of  the  heart,  soon  ceased  to  affect  her.  Nay,  it 
rather  seemed  to  interpose  a  protecting  barrier  between  her 
present  and  the  painful  memory  of  her  past  self.  She  be- 
gan to  suspect  that  all  regret  was  now  conquered,  and  rejoiced 
in  the  sense  of  strength  which  could  only  thus  be  made 
clear  to  her  mind.  Her  feeling  towards  Joseph  became  that 
of  a  sister  or  a  dear  woman  friend ;  there  could  be  no  harm 
in  cherishing  it ;  she  found  a  comfort  in  speaking  to  Julia 
of  his  upright,  unselfish  character,  his  guilelessness  and 
kindness  of  heart. 


21-3 

The  work  upon  the  house  was  nearly  finished,  but  new 
and  more  alarming  bills  began  to  come  in  ;  and  worse  was 
In  store.  There  was  a  chimney -piece,  "the  loveli.-st  ivory 
veins  through  the  green  marble,"'  Julia  said,  which  she  had 
ordered  from  the  city  ;  there  were  boxes  and  packages  of 
furniture  already  on  hand,  purchased  without  -Joseph's 
knowledge  and  with  entire  faith  in  the  virtues  of  the  Ama- 
ranth. Although  she  still  clung  to  that  faith  with  a  des- 
perate grip,  the  sight  of  the  boxes  did  not  give  her  the  same 
ieliglit  as  she  had  felt  in  ordering  them.  She  saw  the  ne- 
cessity of  being  prepared,  in  advance,  for  either  alternative. 
It  was  not  in  her  nature  to  dread  any  scene  or  circum- 
stance of  life  (although  she  had  found  the  appearance 
of  timidity  very  available,  and  could  assume  it  admirably) ; 
the  question  which  perplexed  her  was,  how  to  retain  and 
strengthen  her  ascendency  over  Joseph  ? 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  presence  of  Lucy  Henderson 
was  a  part  of  her  plan,  although  she  held  a  more  important 
service  in  reserve.  Lucy's  warm,  frank  expressions  of 
friendship  for  Joseph  gave  her  great  satisfaction,  and  she 
was  exhaustless  in  inventing  ways  to  call  them  forth. 

"  You  look  quite  like  another  person,  Lucy,"  she  would 
say ;  "  I  really  think  the  rest  has  done  you  good." 

"  I  am  siire  of  it,"  Lucy  answered. 

"  Then  you  must  be  in  no  hurry  to  leave.  We  must  build 
you  up,  as  the  doctors  say ;  and,  besides,  if — if  this  specula- 
tion should  be  unfortunate — O,  I  don't  dare  to  think  of 
it ! — there  will  be  such  a  comfort  to  me,  and  I  am  sure  to 
Joseph  also,  in  having  you  here  until  we  have  learned  to 
bear  it.  We  should  not  allow  our  minds  to  dwell  on  it  so 
much,  you  know ;  we  should  make  an  exertion  to  hide  our 
disappointment  in  your  presence,  and  that  would  be  such 


244  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEXD. 

a  help  !  Now  you  will  say  I  am  borrowing  trouble,  but  do, 
pray,  make  allowances  for  me,  Lucy  !  Think  how  every- 
thing has  been  kept  from  me  that  I  ought  to  have  known  !  " 

"  Of  course,  I  will  stay  a  little  while  for  your  sake,"  Lucy 
answered ;  "  but  Joseph  is  a  man,  and  most  men  bear  bad 
luck  easily.  He  would  hardly  thank  me  for  condoling  with 
him." 

"  O,  no,  no  !  "  Julia  cried  ;  "  he  thinks  everything  of  you  ! 
He  was  so  anxious  for  you  to  come  here  !  he  said  to  me, 
'  Lucy  Henderson  is  a  noble,  true-hearted  girl,  and  you  will 
love  her  at  once,'  as  I  did,  Lucy,  when  I  first  saw  you,  but 
without  knowing  why,  as  I  now  do." 

A  warm  color  came  into  Lucy's  face,  but  she  only  shook 
her  head  and  said  nothing. 

The  two  women  had  just  risen  from  the  breakfast-table  the 
next  morning,  when  a  shadow  fell  into  the  room  through  the 
front  window,  and  a  heavy  step  was  heard  on  the  stone 
pavement  of  the  veranda.  Julia  gave  a  little  start  and 
shriek,  and  seized  Lucy's  arm.  The  door  opened  and  Joseph 
was  there.  He  had  risen  before  daybreak  and  taken  the 
earliest  train  from  the  city.  He  had  scarcely  slept  for  two 
nights ;  his  face  was  stern  and  haggard,  and  the  fatigue,  in- 
stead of  exhausting,  had  only  added  to  his  excitement. 

Julia  sprang  forward,  threw  her  arm  saround,  him,  and 
kissed  him  repeatedly.  He  stood  still  and  passively  endured 
the  caress,  without  returning  it ;  then,  stepping  forward,  he 
gave  his  hand  to  Lucy.  She  felt  that  it  was  cold  and  moist^ 
and  she  did  not  attempt  to  repress  the  quick  sympathy 
which  came  into  her  face  and  voice. 

Julia  guejssed  something  of  the  truth  instantly,  and  nothing 
but  the  powerful  necessity  of  continuing  to  play  her  part  en- 
abled her  to  conceal  the  bitter  anger  which  the  contrast 


between  Joseph's  greeting  to  lier  and  to  Lucy  aroused  in  her 
lieart.  .She  stood  for  a  moment  as  if  paralyzed,  Imt  in  reality 
to  collect  herself;  then,  approaching  her  hushand,  she  stam- 
mered forth:  "  (),  Joseph — I'm  afraid — I  don't  dare  to  ask 
yon  what — what  news  you  bring.  You  didn't  write — I've 
been  so  uneasy — and  now  I  see  from  your  face — that  some- 
thing is  wrong." 

o  O 

He  did  not  answer. 

"Don't  tell  me  all  at  once,  if  it's  very  bad!"  she  then 
cried  :  "  but,  no  !  it's  my  duty  to  hear  it,  my  duty  to  bear 
it,- — Lucy  has  taught  me  that, — tell  ine  all,  tell  me  all,  this 
moment  !  " 

"  You  and  your  father  have  ruined  me :  that  is  all." 

"  Joseph  !  "  The  word  sounded  like  the  essence  of  tender 
protest,  of  heart-breaking  reproach.  Lucy  rose  quietly  and 
moved  towards  the  door. 

"Don't  leave  me,  Lucy  !  "  was  Julia's  appeal. 

"  It  is  better  that  I  should  go,"  Lucy  answered,  in  a  faint 
voice,  and  left  the  room. 

"  But,  Joseph,"  Julia  resumed,  with  a  wild,  distracted  air, 
"  why  do  you  say  such  terrible  things  ?  I  really  do  not 
know  what  yoxi  mean.  What  have  you  learned  ?  what  have 
you  seen  ?  " 

"  I  have  seen  the  Amaranth  !  " 

"Well!     Is  there  no  oil?" 

"  O  yes,  plenty  of  oil !  "  he  laughed  ;  "  skunk  oil  and 
rattlesnake  oil !  It  is  one  of  the  vilest  cheats  that  the 
Devil  ever  put  into  the  minds  of  bad  men." 

"O,  poor  pa!"  Julia  cried;  "what  a  terrible  blow  to 
him!" 

"  '  Poor  pa  ! '  Yes,  my  discovery  of  the  cheat  is  a  terrible 
blow  to  '  poor  pa,' — he  did  not  calculate  on  its  being  found 


24G  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEKD. 

out  so  soon.  When  I  learned  from  Kanuck  that  all  the 
stock  he  holds  was  given  to  him  for  services, — that  is,  for 
getting  the  money  out  of  the  pockets  of  innocents  like  myself, 
- — you  may  judge  how  much  pity  1  feel  for  poor  pa  !  I  told 
him  the  fact  to  his  face,  last  night,  and  he  admitted  it." 

"  Then,"  said  Julia,  "  if  the  others  know  nothing,  he  may 
be  able  to  sell  his  stock  to-day, — his  and  yours ;  and  we  may 
not  lose  much  after  all." 

"  I  should  have  sent  you  to  the  oil  region,  instead  of  going 
myself,"  Joseph  answered,  with  a  sneer.  "  You  and  Kanuck 
would  soon  have  come  to  terms.  He  offered  to  take  my 
stock  off  my  hands,  provided  Iwould  go  back  to  the  city 
and  make  such  a  report  of  the  speculation  as  he  would  dic- 
tate." 

"  A.nd  you  didn't  do  it  f  "  Julia's  voice  rose  almost  to  a 
scream,  as  the  words  burst  involuntarily  from  her  lips. 

The  expression  on  Joseph's  face  showed  her  that  she  had 
been  rash ;  but  the  words  were  said,  and  she  could  only 
advance,  not  recede. 

"  It  is  perfectly  legitimate  in  business,"  she  continued. 
"  Every  investment  in  the  Amaranth  was  a  venture, — every 
stockholder  knew  that  he  risked  losing  his  money  !  There 
is  not  one  that  would  not  save  himself  in  that  way,  if  he 
had  the  chance.  But  you  pride  yourself  on  being  so  much 
better  than  other  men  !  Mr.  Chaffinch  is  right ;  you  have 
what  he  calls  a  '  moral  pride  ' !  You — " 

"  Stop  !  "  Joseph  interrupted.  "  Who  was  it  that  pro- 
fessed such  concern  about  my  faith  ?  Who  sent  Mr.  Chaf- 
finch to  insult  me  ?  " 

"  Faith  and  business  are  two  different  things :  all  the 
churches  know  that.  There  was  Mr.  Sanctus,  in  the  city  : 
lie  subscribed  ten  thousand  dollars  to  the  Church  of  the 


JOSEPH    AX1J    HIS    FKIEXD.  247 

Acceptance  :  he  couldn't  pay  it,  and  they  levied  on  his  pro- 
perty, and  sold  him  out  of  house  and  home  !  Really,  you 
are  as  ignorant  of  the  world  as  a  baby  !  " 

''  God  keep  me  so,  then  !  "   he  exclaimed. 

"  However,"  she  resumed,  after  a  pause,  "  since  you  insist 
on  our  bearing  the  loss,  I  shall  expect  of  your  moral  pride, 
that  you  bear  it  patiently,  if  not  cheerfully.  It  is  far  from 
being  ruin  to  us.  The  rise  in  property  will  very  likely 
balance  it,  and  you  will  still  be  worth  what  you  were." 

"  That  is  not  all,"  he  said.  "  I  will  not  mention  my 
greatest  loss,  for  you  are  incapable  of  understanding  it ;  but 
how  inucli  else  have  you  saddled  me  with  ?  Let  me  have  a 
look  at  it !  " 

He  crossed  the  hall  and  entered  the  new  apartment,  Julia 
following.  Joseph  inspected  the  ceiling,  the  elaborate  and 
overladen  cornices,  the  marble  chimney-piece,  and  finally 
peered  into  the  boxes  and  packages,  not  trusting  himself  to 
speak  while  the  extent  of  the  absurd  splendor  to  which  she 
had  committed  him  grew  upon  his  mind.  Finally  he  said, 
striving  to  make  his  voice  calm,  although  it  trembled  in  his 
throat :  "  Since  you  were  so  free  to  make  all  these  pur- 
chases, perhaps  you  will  tell  me  how  they  are  to  be  paid 
for  ?  " 

"  Let  me  manage  it,  then,"  she  answered.  "  There  is  no 
hurry.  These  country  mechanics  are  always  impatient, — 1 
should  call  them  impertinent,  and  I  should  like  to  teach 
them  a  lesson.  Sellers  are  under  obligations  to  the  buyers, 
and  they  are  bound  to  be  accommodating.  They  have  so 
many  bills  which  are  never  paid,  that  an  extension  of  time 
is  the  least  they  can  do.  Why,  they  will  always  wait  a 
year,  two  years,  three  years,  rather  than  lose." 

"  I  suppose  so." 


248  JOSEPH    AKD    HIS    FRIEND. 

"Then,"  said  Julia,  deceived  by  Joseph's  quiet  tone, 
"  their  profits  are  so  enormous,  that  it  would  only  be  fair  to 
reduce  the  bills.  I  am  sure,  that  if  I  were  to  mention  that 
you  were  embarrassed  by  heavy  losses,  and  press  them  hard, 
they  would  compromise  with  me  on  a  moderate  amount. 
You  know  they  allow  what  is  called  a  margin  for  losses, — 
pa  told  me,  but  I  forget  how  much, — they  always  expect  to 
lose  a  certain  percentage ;  and,  of  course,  it  can  make  no 
difference  by  whom  they  lose  it.  You  understand,  don't 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  it  is  very  plain." 

"  Pa  could  help  me  to  get  both  a  reduction  and  an  exten- 
sion of  time.  The  bills  have  not  all  been  sent,  and  it  will 
be  better  to  wait  two  or  three  months  after  they  have  come 
in.  If  the  dealers  are  a  little  uneasy  in  advance,  they 
will  be  all  the  readier  to  compromise  afterwards." 

Joseph  walked  up  and  down  the  hollow  room,  with  his 
Lands  clasped  behind  his  back  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
floor.  Suddenly  he  stopped  before  her  and  said  :  "  There  is 
another  way." 

"  Not  a  better  one,  I  am  certain." 

"  The  furniture  has  not  yet  been  unpacked,  and  can  be 
returned  to  them  uninjured.  Then  the  bills  need  not  be 
paid  at  all." 

"  And  we  should  be  the  laughing-stock  of  the  neighbor- 
hood ! "  she  cried,  her  eyes  flashing.  "  I  never  heard  of  any- 
thing so  ridiculous !  If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  you 
can  sell  Bishop  those  fifty  acres  over  the  hill,  which  he  stands 
ready  to  take,  any  day.  But  you'd  rather  have  a  dilapidated 
house, — no  parlor, — guests  received  in  the  dining-room  and 
the  kitchen, — the  Hopetons  and  your  friends,  the  Helds, 
sneering  at  us  behind  our  backs !  And  what  would  your 


249 


credit  be  worth  ?  We  shall  nor  even  get  trusted  for  gro- 
ceries at  the  village  store,  if  you  leave  things  as  they 
are  !  " 

Joseph  groaned,  speaking  to  himself  rather  than  answering 
her  :  "  Is  there  no  way  out  of  this  ?  What  is  done  is  done  ; 
shall  I  submit  to  it,  and  try  to  begin  anew?  or — 

lie  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  Julia  turned  her  head, 
so  that  only  the  chimney-piece  and  the  furniture  could  see 
the  sparkle  of  triumph  in  her  eyes.  She  felt  that  she  had 
maintained  her  position ;  and,  what  was  far  more,  she  now 
clearly  saw  the  course  by  which  she  could  secure  it. 

She  left  the  room,  drawing  a  full  breath  of  relief  as  the 
door  closed  behind  her.  The  first  shock  of  the  evil  news  was 
over,  and  it  had  not  fallen  quite  so  heavily  as  she  had  feared. 
There  were  plenty  of  devices  in  store  whereby  all  that  was 
lost  might  be  recovered.  Had  not  her  life  at  home  been  an 
unbroken  sticcession  of  devices  ?  Was  she  not  seasoned  to 
all  manner  of  ups  and  downs,  and  wherefore  should  this  first 
failure  disconcert  her  ?  The  loss  of  the  money  was,  in  re- 
ality, much  less  important  to  her  than  the  loss  of  her  power 
over  Joseph.  Weak  as  she  had  supposed  him  to  be,  he  had 
shown  a  fierce  and  unexpected  resistance,  which  must  be  sup- 
pressed now,  or  it  might  crush  her  whole  plan  of  life.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  he  was  beginning  to  waver:  should  she 
hasten  a  scheme  by  which  she  meant  to  entrap  him  into 
submission, — a  subtle  and  dangerous  scheme,  which  must 
either  wholly  succeed,  or,  wholly  failing,  involve  her  in  its 
iailure  ? 

Rapidly  turning  over  the  question  in  her  mind,  she  en- 
tered her  bed-room.     Locking  the  door,  she  walked  directly 
to  the  looking-glass ;  the  curtain  was  drawn  from  the  win- 
dow, and  a  strong  light  fell  upon  her  face. 
11* 


250  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

"This  will  never  do  !  "  she  said  to  herself.  "  The  anxiety 
and  excitement  have  made  me  thin  again,  and  I  seem  to 
have  no  color."  She  unfastened  her  dress,  bared  her  neck, 
and  pushed  the  ringlets  behind  her  ears.  "  I  look  pinched  ; 
a  little  more,  and  I  shall  look  old.  If  I  were  a  perfect  bru- 
nette or  a  perfect  blonde,  there  would  be  less  difficulty ;  but 
I  have  the  most  provoking,  unmanageable  complexion !  I 
must  bring  on  the  crisis  at  once,  and  then  see  if  I  can't  fill 
out  these  hollows." 

She  heard  the  front  door  opening,  and  presently  saw 
Joseph  on  the  lawn.  He  looked  about  for  a  moment,  with 
a  heavy,  bewildered  air,  and  then  slowly  turned  towards  the 
garden.  She  withdrew  from  the  window,  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, murmured  to  herself,  "  I  will  try,  there  cannot  be  a 
better  time  !  "  and  then,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
sobbing,  rushed  to  Lucy's  room. 

"  O  Lucy !  "  she  cried,  "  help  me,  or  I  am  lost  !  How 
can  I  tell  you  ?  it  is  harder  than  I  ever  dreamed  !  " 

"  Is  the  loss  so  very  serious, — so  much  more  than  you 
feared  ?  "  Lucy  asked. 

"Not  that— O,  if  that  were  all !  But  Joseph—"  Here 
Julia's  sobs  became  almost  hysterical.  "  He  is  so  cruel ;  I 
did  advise  him,  as  I  told  you,  for  his  sake,  and  now  he  says 
that  pa  and  I  have  combined  to  cheat  him  !  I  don't  think  he 
knows  how  dreadful  his  words  are.  I  would  sooner  die  than 
hear  any  more  of  them  !  Go  to  him,  Lucy ;  he  is  in  the 
garden  ;  perhaps  he  will  listen  to  you.  I  am  afraid,  and  I 
never  thought  I  should  be  afraid  of  him  !  " 

"It  is  very,  very  sad,"  said  Lucy.  "But  if  he  is  in  such 
an  excited  condition  he  will  surely  resent  my  coming. 
What  can  I  say?" 

"  Say  only  what  you  heard  me  speak  !       Tell  him  of  my 


251 

anxiety,  my  self-reproach  !  Tell  him  that  even  if  he  will 
believe  that  pa  meant  to  deceive  him,  he  must  not  believe 
it  of  me  !  You  know,  Lucy,  how  he  wrongs  me  in  his 
thoughts  ;  if  you  knew  how  hard  it  is  to  be  wronged  by  a 
husband,  you  \vould  pity  me  !  " 

"  I  do  pity  you,  Julia,  from  my  very  heart ;  and  the  proof 
of  it  is,  that  I  will  try  to  do  what  you  ask,  against  my  own 
sense  of  its  prudence.  If  Joseph  repels  my  interference,  I 
shall  not  blame  him." 

"  Heaven  bless  you,  Lucy  !  He  will  not  repel  you,  he 
cannot !  "  Julia  sobbed.  "  I  will  lie  down  and  try  to  grow 
calm."  She  rose  from  the  bed,  upon  which  she  had  flung 
herself,  and  tottered  through  the  door.  When  she  had 
reached  her  own  room,  she  again  looked  at  her  image  in  the 
glass,  nodded  and  smiled. 

Lucy  walked  slowly  along  the  garden  paths,  plucking  a 
flower  or  two,  and  irresolute  how  to  approach  Joseph.  At 
last,  descending  the  avenue  of  box,  she  found  him  seated  in 
the  semicircular  enclosure,  gazing  steadfastly  down  the  val- 
ley, but  (she  was  sure)  not  seeing  the  landscape.  As  he 
turned  his  head  at  her  approach,  she  noticed  that  his  eye- 
lids were  reddened  and  his  lips  compressed  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  pain. 

"  Sit  down,  Lucy ;  I  am  a  grim  host,  to-day,"  he  said, 
with  a  melancholy  attempt  at  a  smile. 

Lucy  had  come  to  him  with  a  little  womanly  indignation, 
for  Julia's  sake,  in  her  heart ;  but  it  vanished  utterly,  and 
the  tears  started  into  her  eyes.  For  a  moment  she  found  it 
impossible  to  speak. 

"  I  shall  not  talk  of  my  ignorance  any  more,  as  I  once 
did,"  Joseph  continued.  "  If  there  is  a  class  in  the  school 
of  the  world,  graded  according  to  experience  of  human 


252  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIil^D. 

meanness  and  treachery  and  falsehood,  I  ought  to  stand  at 
the  head." 

Lucy  stretched  out  her  hand  in  protest.  "  Do  not  speak 
so  bitterly,  Joseph ;  it  pains  me  to  hear  you." 

"  How  would  you  have  me  speak  ?  " 

"  As  a  man  who  will  not  see  ruin  befoi'e  him  because  a 
part  of  his  property  happens  to  slip  from  him, —  nay,  if  all 
were  lost !  I  always  took  you  to  be  liberal,  Joseph,  never 
careful  of  money  for  money's  sake,  and  I  cannot  xmderstand 
how  your  nature  should  be  changed  now,  even  though  you 
have  been  the  victim  of  some  dishonesty." 

"  '  Some  dishonesty  ' !  You  are  thinking  only  of  money  : 
what  term  would  you  give  to  the  betrayal  of  a  heart,  the 
ruin  of  a  life  ?  " 

"  Surely,  Joseph,  you  do  not,  you  cannot  mean  —  " 

"  My  wife,  of  course.     It  needed  no  guessing." 

"  Joseph  !  "  Lucy  cried,  seizing  the  opportunity,  "  indeed 
you  do  her  wrong !  I  know  what  anxiety  she  has  suffered 
during  your  absence.  She  blamed  herself  for  having  ad- 
vised you  to  risk  so  much  in  an  uncertain  speculation, 
dreaded  your  disappointment,  resolved  to  atone  for  it,  if 
she  could  !  She  may  have  been  rash  and  thoughtless,  but 
she  never  meant  to  deceive  you.  If  you  are  disappointed 
in  some  qualities,  you  should  not  shut  your  eyes  and  refuse 
to  see  others.  I  know,  now,  that  I  have  myself  not  been 
fair  in  my  judgment  of  Julia.  A  nearer  acquaintance  has 
led  me  to  conceive  what  disadvantages  of  education,  for 
which  she  is  not  responsible,  she  is  obliged  to  overcome :  she 
sees,  she  admits  them,  and  she  will  overcome  them.  You, 
as  her  husband,  are  bound  to  show  her  a  patient  kind- 
ness —  " 

"  Enough  1  "  Joseph  interrupted  ;  "  I  see  that  you  have 


253 

touched  pitch,  also.  Lucy,  your  first  instinct  was  right.  The 
woman  whom  I  ;un  bound  to  look  upon  as  my  wife  is  false 
and  selfish  in  everv  fibre  of  her  nature;  how  false  and  self- 
ish I  only  can  know,  for  to  me  she  takes  oil'  her  mask  !  " 

;'Do  you  believe  me,  then  V  "'  Lucy's  words  were  slightly 
defiant.  She  had  not  quite  understood  the  allusion  to 
touching  pitch,  and  Joseph's  indifference  to  her  advocacy 
seemed  to  her  unfeeling. 

"  I  begin  to  fear  that  Philip  was  right,"'  said  Joseph,  not 
heeding  her  question.  (l  Life  is  relentless  :  ignorance  or 
crime,  it  is  all  the  same.  And  if  God  cares  less  about  our 
individual  wrongs  than  we  flatter  ourselves  He  does,  what 
do  we  gain  by  further  endurance  ?  Here  is  Lucy  Hender- 
son, satisfied  that  my  wife  is  a  suffering  angel ;  thinks  my 
nature  is  changed,  that  I  am  cold-hearted  and  cruel,  while 
I  know  Liicy  to  be  true  and  noble,  and  deceived  by  the  very 
goodness  of  her  own  heart !  " 

He  lifted  his  head,  looked  in  her  face  a  moment,  and  then 
went  on : — 

"  I  am  sick  of  masks  ;  we  all  wear  them.  Do  you  want 
to  know  the  truth,  Lucy  ?  When  I  look  back  I  can  see  it 
very  clearly,  now.  A  little  more  than  a  year  ago  the  one 
girl  who  began  to  live  in  my  thoxights  was  you !  Don't 
interrupt  me :  I  am  only  speaking  of  what  was.  When  I 
went  to  Warriner's,  it  was  in  the  hope  of  meeting  you,  not 
Julia  Blessing.  It  was  not  yet  love  that  I  felt,  but  I  think 
it  would  have  grown  to  that,  if  I  had  not  been  led  away  by 
the  cunningest  arts  ever  a  woman  devised.  I  will  not  spec- 
ulate on  what  might  have  been :  if  I  had  loved  you,  per- 
haps there  would  have  been  no  return  :  had  there  been,  I 
should  have  darkened  the  life  of  a  friend.  But  this  I  say  ; 
I  honor  and  esteem  you,  Lucy,  and  the  loss  of  your  friend- 


254  JOSEPH  AND  ins 

•ship,  if  I  now  lose  it,  is  another  evil  service  which  my  wife 
lias  done  me." 

Joseph  little  suspected  how  he  was  torturing  Lucy.  She 
must  have  been  more  than  woman,  had  not  a  pang  of  wild 
regret  for  the  lost  fortune,  and  a  sting  of  bitter  resentment 
against  the  woman  who  had  stolen  it,  wrung  her  heart. 
She  became  deadly  pale,  and  felt  that  her  whole  body  was 
trembling. 

ie  Joseph,"  she  said,  "  you  should  not,  must  not,  speak  so 
to  me." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  he  answered,  letting  his  head  sink  wea- 
rily ;  "  it  is  certainly  not  conventional ;  but  it  is  true,  for 
all  that !  I  could  tell  you  the  whole  story,  for  I  can  read 
it  backwards,  from  now  to  the  beginning,  without  misunder- 
standing a  word.  It  would  make  no  difference ;  she  is 
simple,  natural,  artless,  amiable,  for  all  the  rest  of  the 
world,  while  to  me — 

There  was  such  despondency  in  his  voice  and  posture, 
that  Lucy,  now  longing  more  than  ever  to  cheer  him,  and 
yet  discouraged  by  the  failure  of  her  first  attempt,  felt 
sorely  troubled. 

"You  mistake  me,  Joseph,"  she  said,  at  last,  "if  you 
think  you  have  lost  my  friendship,  my  sincerest  sympathy. 
I  can  see  that  your  disappointment  is  a  bitter  one,  and  my 
prayer  is  that  you  will  not  make  it  bitterer  by  thrusting 
from  you  the  hopeful  and  cheerful  spirit  you  once  showed. 
We  all  have  our  sore  trials." 

Lucy  found  her  own  words  very  mechanical,  but  they 
were  the  only  ones  that  came  to  her  lips.  Joseph  did  not 
answer ;  he  still  sat,  stooping,  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
and  his  forehead  resting  on  his  palms. 

"  If  I  am  deceived  in  Julia,"  she  began  again,  "  it  is  bet- 


tor  to  judge  too  kindly  than  too  harshly.  I  know  you  can- 
not change  your  .sentence  against  her  now,  nor,  perhaps, 
very  soon.  But  you  arc  bound  to  her  for  life,  and  you  must 
labor — it  is  your  sacred  duty — to  make  that  lite  smoother 
and  brighter  for  both.  I  do  not  know  how,  and  I  have  no 
right  to  condemn  you  if  you  fail.  But,  Joseph,  make;  the 
attempt  now,  when  the  most  unfortunate  experience  that  is 
likely  to  come  to  you  is  over  ;  make  it,  and  it  may  chance 
that,  little  by  little,  the  old  confidence  will  return,  and  you 
will  love  her  again." 

Joseph  started  to  his  feet.  "  Love  her  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  suppressed  passion, — "  love  her  !  I  hate  her  !  " 

There  was  a  hissing,  rattling  sound,  like  that  of  some 
fierce  animal  at  bay.  The  thick  foliage  of  two  of  the  tall 
box-trees  was  violently  parted.  The  branches  snapped  and 
gave  way  :  J  ulia  burst  through,  and  stood  before  them. 


°<56  JOSEPH  AXD  ins  FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 


THE  face  that  so  suddenly  glared  upon  them  was  that 
of  a  Gorgon.  The  ringlets  were  still  pushed  behind  her 
ears  and  the  narrowness  of  the  brow  was  entirely  revealed; 
her  eyes  were  full  of  cold,  steely  light ;  the  nostrils  were 
violently  drawn  in,  and  the  lips  contracted,  as  if  in  a  spasm, 
so  that  the  teeth  were  laid  bare.  Her  hands  were  clenched, 
and  there  was  a  movement  in  her  throat  as  of  imprisoned 
words  or  cries ;  but  for  a  moment  no  words  came. 

Lucy,  who  had  started  to  her  feet  at  the  first  sound,  felt 
the  blood  turn  chill  in  her  veins,  and  fell,  rather  than  sank, 
upon  the  seat  again. 

Joseph  was  hardly  surprised,  and  wholly  reckless.  This 
eavesdropping  was  nothing  worse  than  he  already  knew  ; 
indeed,  there  was  rather  a  comfort  in  perceiving  that  he  had 
not  overestimated  her  capacity  for  treachery.  There  waa 
now  no  limit ;  anything  was  possible. 

"There  is  owe  just  law,  after  all,"  he  said,  "the  law  that 
punishes  listeners.  You  have  heard  the  truth,  for  once. 
You  have  snared  and  trapped  me,  but  I  don't  take 
to  my  captor  more  kindly  than  any  other  animal. 
From  this  moment  I  choose  my  own  path,  and  if  you 
still  wish  to  appear  as  my  wife,  you  must  adapt  your  life 
to  mine ! " 

"  You  mean  to  brazen  it  out,  do  you  !  "  Julia  cried,  in  a 
strange,  hoarse,  unnatural  voice.  "  That's  not  so  easy ! 


I  have  not  listened  to  no  purpose  :  I  have  a  hold  upon  your 
precious  '  moral  pride  '  at  lust  !  '' 

Joseph  laughed  scornfully. 

"Yes,  laugh,  but  it  is  in  my  hands  to  make  or  break  you  ! 
There  is  enough  decent  sentiment  in  this  neighborhood  to 
crush  a  married  man  who  dares  to  make  love  to  an  unmar- 
ried girl  !  As  to  the  girl  who  sits  still  and  listens  to  it, 
I  say  nothing ;  her  reputation  is  no  concern  of  mine  !  " 

Lucy  littered  a  faint  cry  of  horror. 

"  If  you  choose  to  be  so  despicable,"  said  Joseph,  '•'  you 
will  force  rue  to  set  my  truth  against  your  falsehood. 
Wherever  you  tell  your  story,  I  shall  follow  with  mine.  It 
will  be  a  wretched,  a  degrading  business ;  but  for  the  sake  of 
Lucy's  good  name,  I  have  no  alternative.  I  have  borne 
suspicion,  misrepresentation,  loss  of  credit,  —  brought  upon 
me  by  you,  —  patiently,  because  they  affected  only  myself; 
but  since  I  am  partly  responsible  in  bringing  to  this  house  a 
guest  for  your  arts  to  play  upon  and  entrap,  I  am  doubly 
bound  to  protect  her  against  you.  But  I  tell  you,  Julia, 
beware  !  I  am  desperate  ;  and  it  is  ill  meddling  with  a  des- 
perate man  !  You  may  sneer  at  my  moral  piide,  but  you 
dare  not  forget  that  I  have  another  quality, — manly  self- 
respect, — which  it  will  be  dangerous  to  offend." 

If  Julia  did  not  recognize,  in  that  moment,  that  her 
subject  had  become  her  master,  it  was  because  the  real, 
unassumed  rage  which  convulsed  her  did  not  allow  her  to 
perceive  anything  clearly.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  scream 
and  shriek,  that  servant  and  farm-hand  might  hear  her,  and 
then  to  repeat  her  accusation  before  them ;  but  Joseph's  last 
words,  and  the  threatening  sternness  of  his  voice  withheld 
her. 

"  So  ?  "  she  said,  at  last ;  "  this  is  the  man  who  was  all 


258  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

truth,  and  trust,  and  honor !  With  you  the  proverb  seeing 
to  be  reversed ;  it's  off  with  the  new  love  and  on  with  the 
old.  You  can  insult  and  threaten  me  in  her  presence! 
Well — go  on:  play  out  your  little  love-scene:  I  shall 
not  interrupt  you.  I  have  heard  enough  to  darken  my 
life  from  this  day  !  " 

She  walked  away  from  them,  up  the  avenue.  Her  dress 
was  torn,  her  arms  scratched  and  bleeding.  She  had  play- 
ed her  stake  and  failed, — miserably,  hopelessly  failed.  Her 
knees  threatened  to  give  way  under  her  at  every  step,  but 
she  forced  herself  to  walk  erect,  and  thus  reached  the  house 
without  once  looking  back. 

Joseph  and  Lucy  mechanically  followed  her  with  their 
eyes.  Then  they  turned  and  gazed  at  each  other  a  moment 
without  speaking.  Lucy  was  very  pale,  and  the  expression 
of  horror  had  not  yet  left  her  face. 

"  She  told  me  to  come  to  you,"  she  stammered.  She 
begged  me,  with  tears,  to  try  and  soften  your  anger  against 
her  ;  and  then — oh,  it  is  monstrous !  " 

"  Now  I  see  the  plan !  "  Joseph  exclaimed ;  "  and  I,  in. 
my  selfish  recklessness,  saying  what  there  was  no  need  to 
utter,  have  almost  done  as  she  calculated, — have  exposed 
you  to  this  outrage  !  Why  should  I  have  recalled  the  past 
at  all  ?  I  was  not  taking  off  a  mask,  I  was  only  showing  a 
scar — no,  not  even  a  scar,  but  a  bruise  ! — which  I  ought  to 
have  forgotten.  Forget  it,  too,  Lucy,  and,  if  you  can,  for- 
give me ! " 

"  It  is  easy  to  forgive — everything  but  my  own  blind- 
ness," Lucy  answered.  "  Biit  there  is  one  thing  which  I 
must  do  immediately  :  I  must  leave  this  house  !  " 

"  I  see  that,"  said  Joseph,  sadly.  Then,  as  if  speaking  to 
himself,  he  murmured :  "  Who  knows  what  friends  will 


259 

come  to  it  in  the  future  ?  "\\~ell,  1  \vill  hear  what  can  be 
borne;  and  afterwards, — there  is  Philip's  valley.  A  free 
outlaw  is  better  than  a  fettered  outlaw  !  " 

Lucy  feared  that  his  mind  was  wandering.  He  straight- 
ened himself  to  his  full  height,  drew  a  deep  breath,  and 
exclaimed  :  "  Action  is  a  sedative  in  such  cases,  isn't  it  ? 
Dennis  has  gone  to  the  mill  ;  I  will  get  the  other  horse 
from  the  field  and  drive  you  home.  Or,  stay  !  will  you  not 
go  to  Philip  Hold's  cottage  for  a  day  or  two  ?  I  think  his 
sister  asked  you  to  come." 

"  Xo,  no  !  "  cried  Lucy  ;  "you  must  not  go  !  I  will  wait 
for  Dennis." 

"Xo  one  must  suspect  what  has  happened  here  this  morn- 
ing, unless  Julia  compels  me  to  make  it  known,  and  I  don't 
think  she  will.  It  is,  therefore,  better  that  I  should  take 
you.  It  will  put  me,  I  hope,  in  a  more  rational  frame  of 
mind.  Go  quietly  to  your  room  and  make  your  prepara- 
tions. I  will  see  Julia,  and  if  there  is  no  further  scene 
now,  there  will  be  none  of  the  kind  henceforth.  She  is 
cunning  when  she  is  calm." 

On  reaching  the  house  Joseph  went  directly  to  his  wife's 
bed-room.  The  necessity  of  an  immediate  interview  could 
not  be  avoided,  since  Lucy  was  to  leave.  When  he  opened 
the  door,  Julia,  who  was  bending  over  an  open  drawer  of 
her  bureau,  started  up  with  a  little  cry  of  alarm.  She  closed 
the  drawer  hastily,  and  began  to  arrange  her  hair  at  the 
mirror.  Her  face  in  the  glass  was  flushed,  but  its  expres- 
sion was  sullen  and  defiant. 

"  Julia,"  he  said,  as  coolly  as  possible,  "  I  am  going  to 
take  Lucy  home.  Of  course  you  understand  that  she  can- 
not stay  here  an  hour  longer.  You  overheard  my  words  tc 
her,  and  you  know  just  how  much  they  were  worth.  I 


260  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

expect  now,  that — for  your  sake  as  much  as  hers  or  mine — • 
you  will  behave  towards  her  at  parting  in  such  a  way  that 
the  servants  may  find  no  suggestions  of  gossip  or  slander." 

"  And  if  I  don't  choose  to  obey  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  not"  commanding.  I  propose  a  course  which  your 
own  mind  must  find  sensible.  You  have  '  a  deuced  sharp 
intellect,'  as  your  father  said,  on  our  wedding-day." 

Joseph  bit  his  tongue  :  he  felt  that  he  might  have  omitted 
this  sting.  But  he  was  so  little  accustomed  to  victory,  that 
he  did  not  guess  how  thoroughly  he  had  already  conquered. 

"  Pa  loved  me,  nevertheless,"  she  said,  and  burst  into 
tears. 

Her  emotion  seemed  real,  but  he  mistrusted  it. 

"  What  can  I  do?"  she  sobbed:  "  I  will  try.  I  thought 
I  was  your  wife,  but  I  am  not  much  more  than  your  slave." 

The  foolish  pifcy  again  stole  into  Joseph's  heart,  although 
he  set  his  teeth  and  clenched  his  hands  against  it.  "  I  am 
going  for  the  horse,"  he  said,  in  a  kinder  tone.  "  When  I 
come  back  from  this  drive,  this  afternoon,  I  hope  I  shall 
find  you  willing  to  discuss  our  situation  dispassionately,  as 
I  mean  to  do.  We  have  not  known  each  other  fairly  before 
to-day,  and  our  plan  of  life  must  be  rearranged." 

It  was  a  relief  to  walk  forth,  across  the  silent,  sunny 
fields ;  and  Joseph  had  learned  to  accept  a  slight  relief  as 
a  substitute  for  happiness.  The  feeling  that  the  inevitable 
crisis  was  over,  gave  him,  for  the  first  time  in  months,  a 
sense  of  liberation.  There  was  still  a  dreary  and  painful 
task  before  him,  and  he  hardly  knew  why  he  should  be  so 
cheerful ;  but  the  bright,  sweet  currents  of  his  blood  were 
again  in  motion,  and  the  weight  upon  his  heart  was  lifted 
by  some  impatient,  joyous  energy. 

The  tempting  vision  of  Philip's  valley,  which  had  haunted 


261 


him  from  time  to  time,  faded  away.  The  angry  tumult 
through  which  ho  had  passed  appeared  to  him  like  a  fever, 
and  he  rejoiced  consciously  in  the  beginning  of  his  spiritual 
convalescence.  If  he  could  simply  suspend  Julia's  active 
interference  in  his  life,  he  might  learn  to  endure  his 
remaining  duties.  He  was  yet  young ;  and  how  much 
strength  and  knowledge  had  come  to  him — through  sharp- 
est pain,  it  was  true — in  a  single  year  !  AVould  lie  willingly 
return  to  his  boyish  innocence  of  the  world,  if  that  year 
could  be  erased  from  his  life  ?  He  was  not  quite  sure. 
Yet  his  nature  had  not  lost  the  basis  of  that  innocent 
time,  and  he  felt  that  he  must  still  build  his  future  years 
upon  it. 

Thus  meditating,  he  caught  the  obedient  horse,  led  him 
to  the  barn,  and  harnessed  him  to  the  light  carriage  which 
Julia  was  accustomed  to  use.  His  anxiety  concerning  her 
probable  demeanor  returned  as  he  entered  the  house.  The 
two  servant-women  were  both  engaged,  in  the  hall,  in  some 
sweeping  or  scouring  operation,  and  might  prove  to  be  very 
inconvenient  witnesses.  The  workmen  in  the  new  parlor — 
fortunately,  he  thought — were  absent  that  day. 

Lucy  Henderson,  dressed  for  the  journey,  sat  in  the 
dining-room.  "  I  think  I  will  go  to  Madeline  Held  for  a 
day  or  two,"  she  said ;  "  I  made  a  half-promise  to  visit  her 
after  your  return." 

"Where  is  Julia?" 

"  In  her  bed-room.  I  have  not  seen  her.  I  knocked  at 
the  door,  but  there  was  no  answer." 

Joseph's  trouble  returned.  "  I  will  see  her  myself,"  he 
said,  sternly  ;  "  she  forgets  what  is  due  to  a  guest." 

"  No,  I  will  go  again,"  Lucy  urged,  rising  hastily ;  "  per 
haps  she  did  not  hear  me." 


262  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FKIEXD. 

She  followed  him  into  the  hall.  Scarcely  had  he  set  his 
foot  upon  the  first  step  of  the  staircase,  when  the  bed-room 
door  above  suddenly  burst  open,  and  Julia,  with  a  shriek  ot 
mortal  terror,  tottered  down  to  the  landing.  Her  face  was 
ashy,  and  the  dark-blue  rings  around  her  sunken  eyes  made 
them  seem  almost  like  the  lai'ge  sockets  of  a  skull.  She 
leaned  against  the  railing,  breathing  short  and  hard. 

Joseph  sprang  up  the  steps,  but  as  he  approached  her  she 
put  out  her  right  hand,  and  pushed  against  his  breast  with 
all  her  force,  crying  out :  "  Go  away !  You  have  killed 
me!" 

The  next  moment  she  fell  senseless  upon  the  landing. 

Joseph  knelt  and  tried  to  lift  her.  "  Good  God  !  she  is 
dead  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  No,"  said  Lucy,  after  taking  Julia's  wrist,  "  it  is  only  a 
fainting  fit.  Bring  some  water,  Susan." 

The  frightened  woman,  who  had  followed  them,  rushed 
down  the  stairs. 

"  But  she  must  be  ill,  very  ill,"  Lucy  continued.  "  This 
is  not  an  ordinary  swoon.  Perhaps  the  violent  excitement 
has  brought  about  some  internal  injury.  You  must  send 
for  a  physician  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  And  Dennis  not  here  !  I  ought  not  to  leave  her  ;  what 
shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Go  yourself,  and  instantly  !  The  carriage  is  ready.  I 
will  stay  and  do  all  that  can  be  done  during  your  absence." 

Joseph  delayed  until,  under  the  influence  of  air  and 
water,  Julia  began  to  recover  consciousness.  Then  he  un- 
derstood Lucy's  glance, — the  women  were  present  and  she 
dared  not  speak, — that  he  should  withdraw  before  Julia 
could  recognize  him. 

He  did  not  spare  the  horse,  but  the  hilly  road  tried  his 


JOSEPH    AND    HI?    FRIEND.  263 

patience.  It  was  between  two  and  three  miles  to  the  house 
of  the  nearest  physician,  and  he  only  arrived,  anxious  and 
breathless,  to  find  that  the  gentleman  had  Ix-on  called  away 
to  attend  another  patient.  Joseph  was  obliged  to  retrace 
part  of  his  road,  and  drive  some  distance  in  the  opposite 
direction,  in  order  to  summon  a  second.  3 fere,  however,  he 
was  more  fortunate.  The  physician  was  just  sitting  down  to 
an  early  dinner,  which  he  persisted  in  finishing,  assuring 
Joseph,  after  ascertaining  such  symptoms  of  the  case  as  the 
latter  was  able  to  describe,  that  it  was  probably  a  nervous 
attack,  "a  modified  form  of  hysteria."  Notwithstanding  ho 
violated  his  own  theory  of  digestion  by  eating  rapidly,  the 
minutes  seemed  intolerably  long.  Then  Iris  own  horse  must 
be  harnessed  to  his  own  sulky,  during  which  time  he  pre- 
pared a  few  doses  of  valerian,  belladonna,  and  other  pallia- 
tives, which  he  supposed  might  be  needed. 

Meanwhile,  Lucy  and  the  woman  had  placed  Julia  in  her 
own  bed,  and  applied  such  domestic  restoratives  as  they 
could  procure,  but  without  any  encouraging  effect.  Julia  ap- 
peared to  be  conscious,  but  she  shook  her  head  when  they 
spoke  to  her,  and  even,  so  Lucy  imagined,  attempted  to  turn 
it  away.  She  refused  the  tea,  the  lavender  and  ginger  they 
brought,  and  only  drank  water  in  long,  greedy  draughts.  In 
a  little  while  she  started  up,  with  clutchings  and  incoherent 
cries,  and  then  slowly  sank  back  again,  insensible. 

The  second  period  of  unconsciousness  was  longer  and 
more  difficult  to  overcome.  Lucy  began  to  be  seriously 
alarmed  as  an  hour,  two  hours,  passed  by,  and  Joseph  did 
not  return.  Dennis  was  despatched  in  search  of  him,  carry- 
ing also  a  hastily  pencilled  note  to  Madeline  Held,  and  then 
Lucy,  finding  that  she  could  do  nothing  more,  took  her  seat 
by  the  window  and  watched  the  lane,  counting  the  seconds, 


264  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FRIEND. 

one  by  one,  as  they  were  ticked  off  by  the  clock  in 
the  hall. 

Finally  a  horse's  head  appeared  above  the  hedge,  \vheve  it 
curved  around  the  shoulder  of  the  hill :  then  the  top  of  a 
carriage, — Joseph  at  last  !  The  physician's  sulky  was  only 
a  short  distance  in  the  rear.  Lucy  hurried  down  and  met 
Joseph  at  the  gate. 

"  No  better, — worse,  I  fear,"  she  said,  answering  his 
look. 

"  Dr.  Hartman,"  he  replied,—"  Worrall  was  away  from 
home, — thinks  it  is  probably  a  nervous  attack.  In  that  case 
it  can  soon  be  relieved." 

"  I  hope  so,  but  I  fancy  there  is  danger." 

The  doctor  now  arrived,  and  after  hearing  Lucy's  report, 
shook  his  head.  "  It  is  not  an  ordinary  case  of  hysteria," 
he  remarked ;  "  let  me  see  her  at  once." 

When  they  entered  the  room  Julia  opened  her  eyes  lan- 
guidly, fixed  them  on  Joseph,  and  slowly  lifted  her  hand  to 
her  head.  "  What  has  happened  to  me  ?  "  she  murmured,  in 
a  hardly  audible  whisper. 

"  You  had  a  fainting  fit,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  have 
brought  the  doctor.  This  is  Dr.  Hartman ;  you  do  not 
know  him,  but  he  will  help  you ;  tell  him  how  you  feel, 
Julia  !  " 

"  Cold  !  "  she  said,  "  cold  !  Sinking  down  somewhere  ! 
Witt  he  lift  me  up  ?  " 

The  physician  made  a  close  examination,  but  seemed  to 
become  more  perplexed  as  he  advanced.  He  administered 
only  a  slight  stimulant,  and  then  withdrew  from  the  bedside. 
Lucy  and  the  servant  left  the  room,  at  his  request,  to  pre- 
pare some  applications. 

"  There  is  something  unusual  here,"  he  whispered,  draw- 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FEIEXD.  205 

ing  Joseph  aside.  "  .Slie  has  been  sinking  vapidly  since  the 
first  attack.  The  vital  force  is  very  low  :  it  is  in  conflict 
•with  sonic  secret  enemy,  and  it  cannot  resist  much  longer, 
unless  we  discover  that  enemy  at  once.  I  will  do  my  best  to 
save  her,  but  I  do  not  yet  see  how." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  noise  from  the  bed.  Julia  was 
vainly  trying  to  ri.se :  her  eyes  were  wide  and  glaring. 
"  No,  no  !  "  came  from  her  lips,  "  I  will  not  die  !  I  heard 
you.  Joseph,  I  will  try — to  be  different — but — I  must 
live— for  that !  " 

Then  her  utterance  became  faint  and  indistinct,  and  she 
relapsed  into  unconsciousness.  The  physician  re-examined 
her  with  a  grave,  troubled  face.  "  She  need  not  be  con- 
scious," he  said,  "  for  the  next  thing  I  shall  do.  I  will  not 
interrupt  this  syncope  at  once ;  it  may,  at  least,  prolong  the 
struggle.  What  have  they  been  giving  her  ?  " 

He  picked  up,  one  by  one,  the  few  bottles  of  the  household 
pharmacy  which  stood  upon  the  bureau.  Last  of  all,  he 
found  an  empty  glass  shoved  behind  one  of  the  supports  of 
the  mirror.  He  looked  into  it,  held  it  against  the  light,  and 
was  about  to  set  it  down  again,  when  he  fancied  that  there 
was  a  misty  appearance  on  the  bottom,  as  if  from  some  deli- 
cate sediment.  Stepping  to  the  window,  he  saw  that  he  had 
not  been  mistaken.  He  collected  a  few  of  the  minute  gra- 
nulations on  the  tip  of  his  forefinger,  touched  them  to  his 
tongue,  and,  turning  quickly  to  Joseph,  whispered : — 

"  She  is  poisoned  !  " 

"  Impossible  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed ;  "  she  could  not  have 
been  so  mad  !  " 

"It  is  as  I  tell  you!  This  form  of  the  operation  of 
arsenic  is  very  unusual,  and  I  did  not  suspect  it ;  but  now 
I  remember  that  it  is  noted  in  the  books.  Repeated  'syn- 
12 


266  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEND. 

copes,  utter  nervous  prostration,  absence  of  the  ordinary 
burning  and  vomiting,  and  signs  of  rapid  dissolution;  it  fits 
the  case  exactly  !  If  I  had  some  oxy-hyclrate  of  iron,  there 
might  still  be  a  possibility,  but  I  greatly  fear — - 

"Do  all  you  can  !  "  Joseph  interrupted.  "  She  must  have 
been  insane !  Do  not  tell  me  that  you  have  no  antidote  !  " 

"  We  must  try  an  emetic,  though  it  will  now  be  very 
dangerous.  Then  oil,  white  of  egg," — and  the  doctor  has- 
tened down  to  the  kitchen. 

Joseph  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  wringing  his 
hands.  Here  was  a  horror  beyond  anything  he  had  im- 
agined. His  only  thought  was  to  save  the  life  which  she,  in 
the  madness  of  passion,  must  have  resolved  to  take ;  she 
must  not,  must  not,  die  now ;  and  yet  she  seemed  to  be 
already  in  some  region  on  the  very  verge  of  darkness,  some 
region  where  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  reach  and  pull  her 
back.  What  could  be  done  ?  Human  science  was  baffled ; 
and  would  God,  who  had  allowed  him  to  be  afflicted  through 
her,  now  answer  his  prayer  to  continue  that  affliction? 
But,  indeed,  the  word  "affliction"  was  not  formed  in  his 
mind ;  the  only  word  which  he  consciously  grasped  was 
"Life!  life!" 

He  paused  by  the  bedside  and  gazed  upon  her  livid  skin, 
her  sunken  features :  she  seemed  already  dead.  Then,  sink- 
ing on  his  knees,  he  tried  to  pray,  if  that  was  prayer  which 
was  the  single  intense  appeal  of  all  his  confused  feelings. 
Presently  he  heard  a  faint  sigh;  she  slightly  moved ;  con- 
sciousness was  evidently  returning. 

She  looked  at  him  with  half-opened  eyes,  striving  to  fix 
upon  something  which  evaded  her  mind.  Then  she  said,  in 
the  faintest  broken  whisper :  "  I  did  love  you — I  did — and 
do — love  you  !  But — you — you  hate  me  !  " 


JOSEPH  A:\D  ins  Fiar.xn.  267 

A  pang  sharper  than  a  knife  went  through  Joseph's 
heart,  lie  cried,  through  his  tears  :  "  I  did  not  know  what 
I  said  !  Give  me  your  forgiveness,  Julia  !  Pardon  rue,  not 
because  I  ask  it,  but  fredy,  from  your  heart,  and  I  will 
bless  you  !  " 

She  did  not  speak,  but  her  eyes  softened,  and  a  phantom 
smile  hovered  upon  her  lips.  It  was  no  mask  this  time : 
she  was  sacredly  frank  and  true.  Joseph  bent  over  her 
and  kissed  her. 

"  O  Julia !  "  he  said,  "  why  did  you  do  it  ?  Why  did 
you  not  wait  until  I  could  speak  with  you  ?  Did  you  think 
you  would  take  a  burden  off  yourself  or  me  ?  " 

Her  lips  moved,  but  no  voice  came.  He  lifted  her  head, 
supported  her,  and  bent  his  ear  to  her  mouth.  It  was  like 
the  dream  of  a  voice  :— 

"  I — did — not — mean — " 

There  it  stopped.  The  doctor  entered  the  room,  followed 
by  Lucy. 

"  First  the  emetic,"  said  the  former. 

"  For  God's  sake,  be  silent  ! "  Joseph  cried,  with  his  ear 
still  at  Julia's  lips.  The  doctor  stepped  up  softly  and 
looked  at  her.  Then,  seating  himself  on  the  bed  beside 
Joseph,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  heart.  For  several  min- 
utes there  was  silence  in  the  room. 

Then  the  doctor  removed  his  hand,  took  Julia's  head  out 
of  Joseph's  arms,  and  laid  it  softly  upon  the  pillow. 

She  was  dead. 


268  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XX  Y. 

THE    MOURNERS. 

"  IT  cannot  be  !  "  cried  Joseph,  looking  at  the  doctor  with 
an  agonized  face ;  "  it  is  too  dreadful !  " 

"  There  is  no  room  for  doubt  in  relation  to  the  cause.  I 
suspect  that  her  nervous  system  has  been  subjected  to  a 
steady  and  severe  tension,  probably  for  years  past.  This 
may  have  induced  a  condition,  or  at  least  a  temporary 
paroxysm,  during  which  she  was — you  understand  me — 
not  wholly  responsible  for  her  actions.  You  must  have 
noticed  whether  such  a  condition  preceded  this  catastro- 
phe." 

Lucy  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  back  to  the  livid 
face  on  the  pillow,  unable  to  ask  a  question,  and  not  yet 
comprehending  that  the  end  had  come.  Joseph  arose  at 
the  doctor's  words. 

"  That  is  my  guilt,"  he  said.  "  I  was  excited  and  angry, 
for  I  had  been  bitterly  deceived.  I  warned  her  that  her 
life  must  henceforth  conform  to  mine  :  my  words  were 
harsh  and  violent.  I  told  her  that  we  had  at  last  ascer- 
tained each  other's  true  natures,  and  proposed  a  serious  dis- 
cussion for  the  purpose  of  arranging  our  common  future, 
this  afternoon.  Can  she  have  misunderstood  my  meaning? 
It  was  not  separation,  not  divorce :  I  only  meant  to  avoid 
the  miserable  strife  of  the  last  few  weeks.  Who  could  im- 
agine that  this  would  follow  ?  " 

Even  as  he  spoke   the    words    Joseph    remembered  the 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FIITEXD.  209 

tempting  fancy  which  had  passed  through  his  own  mind, — • 
and  the  fear  of  Philip. — as  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  the 
rock,  above  the  dark,  sliding  water,  lie  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands  and  sat  down.  What  right  had  he  to 
condemn  her,  to  pronounce  her  mad?  Grunt  that  she  had 
been  blinded  by  her  o\vn  unbalanced,  excitable  nature  rather 
than  consciously  false  ;  grant  that  she  had  really  loved  him, 
that  the  love  survived  under  all  her  vain  and  masterful 
ambition, — and  how  could  he  doubt  it  after  the  dying 
words  and  looks?" — it  was  then  easy  to  guess  how  sorely 
she  had  been  wounded,  how  despair  should  follow  her  fierce 
excitement  !  Her  words,  "  Go  away !  you  have  killed 
me  !  "  were  now  explained.  He  groaned  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  self-accusation.  What  were  all  the  trials  he  had  endured 
to  this  ?  How  light  seemed  the  burden  from  which  he  was 
now  free  !  how  gladly  would  he  bear  it,  if  the  day's  words 
and  deeds  could  be  unsaid  and  undone  ! 

The  doctor,  meanwhile,  had  explained  the  manner  of 
Julia's  death  to  Lucy  Henderson.  She,  almost  overcome 
with  this  last  horror,  could  only  agree  with  his  conjecture, 
for  her  own  evidence  confirmed  it.  Joseph  had  forborne  to 
mention  her  presence  in  the  garden,  and  she  saw  no  need  of 
repeating  his  words  to  her ;  but  she  described  Julia's  con- 
vulsive excitement,  and  her  refusal  to  admit  her  to  her 
room,  half  an  hour  before  the  first  attack  of  the  poison. 
The  case  seemed  entirely  clear  to  both. 

"  For  the  present,"  said  the  doctor,  "  let  us  say  nothing 
about  the  suicide.  There  is  no  necessity  for  a  post-mortem 
examination :  the  symptoms,  and  the  presence  of  arsenic  in 
the  glass,  are  quite  sufficient  to  establish  the  cause  of  death. 
You  know  what  a  foolish  idea  of  disgrace  is  attached  to 
families  here  in  the  country  when  such  a  thing  happens, 


270  JOSEPH  A3TD  ins  FRIEND. 

and  Mr.  Asten  is  not  now  in  a  state  to  bear  much  more. 
At  least,  wo  must  save  him  from  painful  questions  until 
after  the  funeral  is  over.  Say  as  little  as  possible  to  him : 
he  is  not  in  a  condition  to  listen  to  reason :  ho  believes  him- 
self guilty  of  her  death." 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  cried  Lucy  :  "  will  you  not  stay 
until  the  man  Dennis  returns  ?  Mr.  Asten's  aunt  must  be 
fetched  immediately." 

It  was  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  Dennis  arrived, 
followed  by  Philip  and  Madeline  Hold. 

Lucy,  who  had  already  despatched  Dennis,  with  a  fresh 
horse,  to  Magnolia,  took  Philip  and  Madeline  into  the 
dining-room,  and  hurriedly  communicated  to  them  the  in- 
telligence of  Julia's  death.  Philip's  heart  gave  a  single 
leap  of  joy  ;  then  he  compelled  himself  to  think  of  Joseph 
and  the  exigencies  of  the  situation. 

"  You  cannot  stay  here  alone,"  he  said.  "  Madeline 
must  keep  you  company.  I  will  go  up  and  take  care 
of  Joseph :  we  must  think  of  both  the  living  and  the 
dead." 

No  face  could  have  been  half  so  comforting  in  the  cham- 
ber of  death  as  Philip's.  The  physician  had,  in  the  mean 
time,  repeated  to  Joseph  the  words  he  had  spoken  to  Lucy, 
and  now  Joseph  said,  pointing  to  Philip,  "  Tell  him  every- 
thing !  " 

Philip,  startled  as  he  was,  at  once  comprehended  the 
situation.  He  begged  Dr.  Hartman  to  leave  all  further 
arrangements  to  him,  and  to  summon  Mrs.  Bishop,  the  wife 
of  one  of  Joseph's  near  neighbors,  on  his  way  home.  Then, 
taking  Joseph  by  the  arm,  he  said  :  — 

"  Now  come  with  me.  We  will  leave  this  room  awhile 
to  Lucy  and  Madeline ;  but  neither  must  you  be  alone. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  271 

If  I  am  anything  to  you,  Joseph,  now  is  the  time  when 
my  presence  should  be  some  slight  comfort.  We  need  not 
speak,  but  we  will  keep  together.'' 

Joseph  clung  the  closer  to  his  friend's  arm,  without 
sp'.-aking,  and  they  passed  out  of  the  house.  Philip  h-d 
him,  mechanically,  towards  the  garden,  but  as  thev  drew 
near  the  avenue  of  box-trees  Joseph  started  back,  crvin" 

«/  O 

out : — - 

"  Xot  there  ! — O,  not  there  !  " 

Philip  turned  in  silence,  conducted  him  past  the  barn 
into  the  grass-field,  and  mounted  the  hill  towards  the  pin- 
oak  on  its  summit.  From  this  point  the  house  was  scarcely 
visible  behind  the  fir-trees  and  the  huge  weeping-willow, 
but  the  fair  hills  around  seemed  happy  under  the  tender 
sky,  and  the  melting,  vapory  distance,  seen  through  the 
southern  opening  of  the  valley,  hinted  of  still  happier  land- 
scapes beyond.  As  Joseph  contemplated  the  scene,  the  long 
strain  upon  his  nerves  relaxed  :  he  leaned  upon  Philip's 
shoulder,  as  they  sat  side  by  side,  and  wept  passionately. 

"  If  she  had  not  died !  "  he  murmured,  at  last. 

Philip  was  hardly  prepared  for  this  exclamation,  and  he 
did  not  immediately  answer. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better  for  me  to  talk,"  Joseph  continued. 
"  Yo\i  do  not  know  the  whole  truth,  Philip.  You  have 
heard  of  her  madness,  but  not  of  my  guilt.  What  was  it  I 
said  when  we  last  met  ?  I  cannot  recall  it  now ;  but  I 
know  that  I  feared  to  call  my  punishment  unjust.  Since 
then  I  have  deserved  it  all,  and  more.  If  I  am  a  child, 
why  should  I  dare  to  handle  fire  ?  If  I  do  not  understand 
life,  why  should  I  dare  to  set  death  in  motion  ?  " 

He  began,  and  related  everything  that  had  passed  since 
they  parted  on  the  banks  of  the  stream.  He  repeated  the 


272  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIKND. 

words  that  Lad  been  spoken  in  the  house  and  in  the  garden, 
and  the  last  broken  sentences  that  came  from  Julia's  lips. 
Philip  listened  with  breathless  surprise  and  attention.  The 
greater  part  of  the  narrative  made  itself  clear  to  his  mind  ; 
his  instinctive  knowledge  of  Julia's  nature  enabled  him  to 
read  much  further  than  was  then  possible  to  Joseph  ;  but 
there  was  a  mystery  connected  with  the  suicide  which  he 
could  not  fathom.  Her  rage  he  could  easily  understand  ; 
her  apparent  submission  to  Joseph's  request,  however, — her 
manifest  desire  to  live,  on  overhearing  the  physician's  fears, 
— her  last  incomplete  sentence,  "  I — did — not — mean — 
indicated  no  such  fatal  intention,  but  the  reverse.  More- 
over, she  was  too  inherently  selfish,  even  in  the  fiercest 
paroxysm  of  disappointment,  to  take  her  own  life,  he  be- 
lieved. All  the  evidence  justified  him  in  this  view  of  her 
nature,  yet  at  the  same  time  rendered  her  death  more  inex- 
plicable. 

It  was  no  time  to  mention  these  doubts  to  Joseph.  His 
only  duty  was  to  console  and  encourage. 

"  There  is  no  guilt  in  accident,"  he  said.  "  It  was  a  crisis 
which  must  have  come,  and  you  took  the  only  course  possi- 
ble to  a  man.  If  she  felt  that  she  was  defeated,  and  her 
mad  act  was  the  consequence,  think  of  your  fate  had  she  felt 
herself  victorious  ! " 

"  It  could  have  been  no  worse  than  it  was,"  Joseph 
answered.  "  And  she  might  have  changed  :  I  did  not  give 
her  time.  I  have  accused  my  own  mistaken  education,  but 
I  had  no  charity,  no  pity  for  hers !  " 

"When  they  descended  the  hill  Mrs.  Bishop  had  arrived, 
and  the  startled  household  was  reduced  to  a  kind  of  dreary 
order.  Dennis,  who  had  driven  with  speed,  brought  Rachel 
Miller  at  dusk,  and  Philip  and  Madeline  then  departed, 


.TOSCTII    AM)    HIS    FRIEND.  273 

taking  Lucy  Henderson  with  them.  Rachel  was  tearful, 
but  composed  ;  she  said  little  to  her  nephew,  but  there  was 
a  quiet,  considerate  tenderness  in  her  manner  -which  soothed 
him  more  than  any  words. 

The  retiction  from  so  much  fatigue  and  excitement  almost 
prostrated  him.  When  he  went  to  Led  in  his  own  guest- 
room, feeling  like  a  stranger  in  a  strange  house,  he  lay  for  a 
long  time  between  sleep  and  waking,  haunted  by  all  the 
scenes  and  personages  of  his  past  life.  His  mother's  face, 
so  faded  in  memory,  came  clear  and  fresh  from  the  shadows ; 
a  boy  whom  he  had  loved  in  his  school-days  lloated  with 
fair,  pale  features  just  before  his  closed  eyes ;  and  around 
and  between  them  there  was  woven  a  web  of  twilights  and 
moonlights,  and  sweet  sunny  days,  each  linked  to  some  grief 
or  pleasure  of  the  buried  years.  It  was  a  keen,  bitter  joy,  a 
fascinating  torment,  from  which  he  cotild  not  escape.  He 
was  caught  and  helplessly  ensnared  by  the  phantoms,  until, 
late  in  the  night,  the  strong  claim  of  nature  drove  them 
away  and  left  him  in  a  dead,  motionless,  dreamless  slumber. 

Philip  returned  in  the  morning,  and  devoted  the  day  not 
less  to  the  arrangements  which  must  necessarily  be  made  for 
the  funeral  than  to  standing  between  Joseph  and  the  awkward 
and  inquisitive  sympathy  of  the  neighbors.  Joseph's  con- 
tinued weariness  favored  Philip's  exertions,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  blunted  the  edge  of  his  own  feelings,  and 
helped  him  over  that  cold,  bewildering,  dismal  period,  dur- 
ing which  a  corpse  is  lord  of  the  mansion  and  controls  the 
life  of  its  inmates. 

Towards  evening  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blessing,  who  had  been 
summoned  by  telegraph,  made  their  appearance.  Clemen- 
tina did  not  accompany  them.  They  were  both  dressed  in 
mourning :  Mrs.  Blessing  was  grave  and  rigid,  Mr.  Blessing 


274  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEXD. 

flushed  and  lachrymose.  Philip  conducted  them  first  to 
the  chamber  of  the  dead  and  then,  to  Joseph. 

"  It  is  so  sudden,  so  shocking !  "  Mrs.  Blessing  sobbed  ; 
"  and  Julia  always  seemed  so  healthy  !  What  have  you 
done  to  her,  Mr.  Asten,  that  she  should  be  cut  off  in  the 
bloom  of  her  youth  ?  " 

"  Eliza  !  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  with  his  handkerchief  to 
his  eyes  ;  "  do  not  say  anything  which  might  sound  like  a 
reproach  to  our  heart-broken  son  !  There  are  many  foes  in 
the  citadel  of  life  :  they  may  be  undermining  our — our  foun- 
dations at  this  very  moment !  " 

"  No,"  said  Joseph  ;  "  you,  her  father  and  mother,  must 
hear  the  truth.  I  would  give  all  I  have  in  the  world  if  I 
were  not  obliged  to  tell  it." 

It  was,  at  the  best,  a  painful  task ;  but  it  was  made 
doubly  so  by  exclamations,  questions,  intimations,  which  he 
was  forced  to  hear.  Finally,  Mrs.  Blessing  asked,  in  a  tone 
of  alarm : — 

"  How  many  persons  know  of  this  ?  " 

"  Only  the  physician  and  three  of  my  friends,"  Joseph 
answered." 

"  They  must  be  silent !  It  might  ruin  Clementina's  pros- 
pects if  it  were  generally  known.  To  lose  one  daughter  and 
to  have  the  life  of  another  blasted  would  be  too  much." 

"  Eliza,"  said  her  husband,  "  we  must  try  to  accept  what- 
ever is  inevitable.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  no  more  recognize 
Julia's  usually  admirable  intellect  in  her — yes,  I  must  steel 
myself  to  say  the  word  ! — her  suicide,  than  I  recognized  her 
features  just  now !  unless  Decay's  effacing  fingers  have  already 
swept  the  lines  where  beauty  lingers.  I  warned  her  of  the 
experiment,  for  such  I  felt  it  to  be ;  yet  in  this  last  trying 
experience  I  do  not  complain  of  Joseph's  disappointment, 


and  his  temporary — I  trust  it  is  only  temporary — suspicion. 
"\Ve  must  not  for  ire  t  that  lie  Las  lost  m«re  than  we  have."' 

'•  Where  is — ''  Joseph  began,  endeavoring  to  turn  the 
conversation  from  this  point. 

"Clementina?  I  knew  you  would  find  her  absence  un- 
accountable. TVe  inshuitlv  forwarded  a  telegram  to  Lon" 

^  O  O 

Brunch  ;  the  answer  said,  '  My  grief  is  great,  but  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  come.'  Why  impossible  she  did  not  particu- 
larize, and  we  can  only  conjecture.  When  I  consider  her 
age  and  lost  opportunities,  and  the  importance  which  a 
single  day,  even  a  fortunate  situation,  may  possess  for  her 
at  present,  it  seems  to  remove  some  of  the  sharpness  of  the 
serpent's  tooth.  Neither  she  nor  we  are  responsible  for 
Julia's  rash  taking  off;  yet  it  is  always  felt  as  a  cloud  which 
lowers  upon  the  family.  There  was  a  similar  case  among 
the  De  Belsains,  during  the  Huguenot  times,  but  we  never 
mention  it.  For  your  sake  silence  is  rigidly  imposed  upon 
us ;  since  the  preliminary — what  shall  I  call  it  ?— dis-har- 
mony  of  views  ? — would  probably  become  a  part  of  the  nar- 
rative." 

"  Pray  do  not  speak  of  that  now  !  "   Joseph  groaned. 

"  Pardon  me ;  I  will  not  do  so  again.  Our  minds  natu- 
rally become  discursive  under  the  pressure  of  grief.  It  is 
easier  for  me  to  talk  at  such  times  than  to  be  silent  and 
think.  My  power  of  recuperation  seems  to  be  spiritual  as 
well  as  physical ;  it  is  congenital,  and  therefore  exposes  me  to 
misconceptions.  But  we  can  close  over  the  great  abyss  of 
our  sorrow,  and  hide  it  from  view  in  the  depth  of  our  na- 
tures, without  dancing  on  the  platform  which  covers  it." 

Philip  turned  away  to  hide  a  smile,  and  even  Mrs.  Bless- 
ing exclaimed :  "  Pteally,  Benjamin,  you  are  talking  heart- 
lessly !  " 


276  JOSEPH    AND    TITS    FRIEND. 

"  I  do  not  mean  it  so,"  he  said,  molting  into  tears,  "  but 
so  much  has  come  upon  me  all  at  once !  If  I  lose  my  buoy- 
ancy, I  shall  go  to  the  bottom  like  a  foundered  ship  !  I  was 
never  cut  out  for  the  tragic  parts  of  life  ;  but  there  are  char- 
acters who  smile  on  the  stage  and  weep  behind  the  scenes. 
And,  you  know,  the  Lord  lovcth  a  cheerful  giver." 

He  was  so  touched  by  the  last  words  he  spoke,  that  he 
leaned  his  head  \ipon  his  arms  and  wept  bitterly. 

Then  Mrs.  Blessing,  weeping  also,  exclaimed :  "  O,  don't 
take  on  so,  Benjamin  !  " 

Philip  put  an  end  to  the  scene,  which  was  fast  becoming 
a  torment  to  Joseph.  But,  later  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Bless- 
ing again  sought  the  latter,  softly  apologizing  for  the  intru- 
sion, but  declaring  that  he  was  compelled,  then  and  there, 
to  make  a  slight  explanation. 

"  When  you  called  the  other  evening,"  he  said,  "  I  was 
worn  out,  and  not  competent  to  grapple  with  such  an  unex- 
pected revelation  of  villany.  I  had  been  as  ignorant  of 
.Kanuck's  real  character  as  you  were.  All  our  experience 
of  the  world  is  sometimes  at  fault ;  but  where  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Lellifant  was  first  deceived,  my  own  case  does  not  seem 
so  flagrant.  Your  early  information,  however,  enabled  me 
(through  third  parties)  to  secure  a  partial  sale  of  the  stock 
held  by  yourself  and  me, — at  something  of  a  sacrifice,  it  is 
true ;  but  I  prefer  not-to  dissociate  myself  entirely  from  the 
enterprise.  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  more  than  the  merest 
tyro  in  geology  ;  nevertheless,  as  I  lay  awake  last  night, — 
being,  of  course,  unable  to  sleep  after  the  shock  of  the  tele- 
gram,— I  sought  relief  in  random  scientific  fancies.  It  oc- 
curred to  me  that  since  the  main  Chowder  wells  are  '  spout- 
ing,' their  source  or  reservoir  must  be  considerably  higher 
than  the  surface.  Why  might  not  that  soiirce  be  found  un-1) 


JOSEPH    AXU    1113    FKIKXP.  277 

der  the  hills  of  the  Amaranth  ?  If  so,  the  Chowder  would 
be  tapped  at  the  fountain-head  and  the  flow  of  Pactolean 
grease  would  be  ours  !  "\Ylieu  i  return  to  the  citv  I  shall 
need  instantly — after  the  fearful  revelations  of  to-day — sumo 
violently  absorbing  occupation  ;  and  what  could  be  more  ap- 
propriate ?  If  anything  could  give  repose  to  Julia's  unhappy 
shade,  it  would  be  the  knowledge  that  her  faith  in  the  Ama- 
ranth was  at  last  justified  !  I  do  not  presume  to  awaken 
your  confidence  :  it  has  been  too  deeply  shaken  ;  all  I  ask  is, 
that  I  may  have  the  charge  of  your  shares,  in  order — without 
calling  upon  you  for  the  expenditure  of  another  cent,  you 
understand — to  rig  a  jury-mast  on  the  wreck,  and,  D.  V., 
float  safely  into  port  !  " 

"  Why  should  I  refuse  to  trust  you  with  what  is  already 
worthless  ?  "  said  Joseph. 

"  I  will  admit  even  that,  if  you  desire.  '  Exitus  actaprobat? 
was  Washington's  motto ;  but  I  don't  consider  that  we  have 
yet  reached  the  exitus  !  Thank  you,  Joseph  !  Your  question 
has  hardly  the  air  of  returning  confidence,  but  I  will  force 
myself  to  consider  it  as  such,  and  my  labor  will  be  to  deserve 
it." 

He  wrung  Joseph's  hand,  shed  a  few  more  tears,  and  be- 
took himself  to  his  wife's  chamber.  "  Eliza,  let  us  be  calm : 
we  never  know  our  strength  until  it  has  been  tried,"  he 
said  to  her,  as  lie  opened  his  portmanteau  and  took  from  it 
the  wicker-covered  flask. 

Then  came  the  weariest  and  dreariest  day  of  all, — when  the 
house  must  be  thrown  open  to  the  world  ;  when  in  one  room 
the  corpse  must  be  displayed  for  solemn  stares  and  whispered 
comments,  while  in  another  the  preparation  of  the  funeral 
meats  absorbs  all  the  interest  of  half  a  dozen  busy  women  ; 
when  the  nearest  relatives  of  the  dead  sit  together  in  a  room 


'278  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEND. 

! 

lip-stairs,  hungering  only  for  the  consolations  of  loneliness  and 
silence  ;  when  all  talk  under  their  voices,  and  uncomfortably 
fulfil  what  they  believe  to  be  their  solemn  duty  5  and  when 
even  Nature  is  changed  to  all  eyes,  and  the  mysterious  gloom 
of  an  eclipse  seems  to  fall  from  the  most  unclouded  sun. 

There  was  a  general  gathering  of  the  neighbors  from  far 
and  near.  The  impression  seemed  to  be — and  Philip  was 
ready  to  substantiate  it  —that  Julia  had  died  in  consequence 
of  a  violent  convulsive  spasm,  which  some  attributed  to  one 
cause  and  some  to  another. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  made  his  way,  as  by  right,  to  the 
chamber  of  the  mourners.  Rachel  Miller  was  comforted  in 
seeing  him,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blessing  sadly  courteous,  and 
Joseph  strengthened  himself  to  endure  with  patience  what 
might  follow.  After  a  few  introductory  words,  and  a  long 
prayer,  the  clergyman  addressed  himself  to  each,  in  turn, 
with  questions  or  remarks  which  indicated  a  fierce  necessity 
of  resignation. 

"  I  feel  for  you,  brother,"  he  said,  as  he  reached  Joseph 
and  bent  over  his  chair.  "  It  is  an  inscrutable  visitation, 
but  I  trust  you  submit,  in  all  obedience  ?  " 

Joseph,  bowed  silently. 

^fcHe  has  many  ways  of  searching  the  heart,"  Mr.  Chaf- 
finch continued.  "  Your  one  precious  comfort  must  be  that 
she  believed,  and  that  she  is  now  in  glory.  O,  if  you  would 
but  resolve  to  follow  in  her  footsteps  !  He  shows  His  love, 
in  that  He  chastens  you  :  it  is  a  stretching  out  of  His  hand, 
a  visible  oft'er  of  acceptance,  this  on  one  side,  and  the  lesson 
of  our  perishing  mortality  on  the  other  !  Do  you  not  feel 
your  heart  a\\  fully  and  tenderly  moved  to  approach  Him  ?  " 

Joseph  sat,  with  bowed  head,  listening  to  the  smooth, 
unctuous,  dismal  voice  at  his  ear,  until  the  tension  of  his 


270 

nerves  became  a  positive  phy;.i-;J  pain.  Ho  longed  to  cry 
aloud,  to  spring  up  and  rush  away  ;  his  heart  was  moved, 
but  not  awfully  and  tenderly.  [t  had  been  yearning  towards 
the  pure  Divine  Light  in  which  all  confusions  of  the  soul  arc 
disentangled  ;  but  now  some  opaque  foreign  substance  inter- 
vened, and  drove  him  back  upon  himself.  How  loii^  the 
torture  lasted  he  did  not  know.  He  spake  no  word,  and 
made  no  further  sign. 

Then  Philip  took  him  and  Rachel  Miller  down,  for  the 
last  conventional  look  at  the  stony,  sunken  face.  He  was 
seated  here  and  led  there  ;  he  was  dimly  conscious  of  a 
crowd,  of  murmurs  and  steadfast  faces ;  he  heard  some 
one  •whisper,  "  How  dreadfully  pale  he  looks  !  "  and  won- 
dered whether  the  words  could  possibly  refer  to  him.  Then 
there  was  the  welcome  air  and  the  sunshine,  and  Dennis 
driving  them  slowly  down  the  lane,  following  a  gloomy 
vehicle,  in  which  something — not  surely  the  Julia  whom  he 
knew — was  carried. 

He  recalled  but  one  other  such  stupor  of  the  senses  : 
it  was  during  the  performance  of  the  marriage  ceremony. 

But  the  longest  day  wears  out  at  last ;  and  when  night 
came  only  Philip  was  beside  him.  The  Blessings  had  been 
sent  to  Oakland  Station  for  the  evening  train  to  the  city, 
and  Joseph's  shares  in  the  Amaranth  Company  were  in  their 
portmanteau. 


280  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FIUEND. 


CHAPTER     XXVI. 

THE     ACCUSATION. 

FOR  a  few  days  it  almost  seemed  to  Joseph  that  the 
old  order  of  his  existence  had  been  suddenly  restored,  and 
the  year  of  his  betrothal  and  marriage  had  somehow  been  in- 
tercalated into  his  life  simply  as  a  test  and  trial.  Rachel 
Miller  was  back  again,  in  her  old  capacity,  and  he  did  not 
yet  see — what  would  have  been  plain  to  any  other  eyes — 
that  her  manner  towards  him  was  far  more  respectful  and 
considerate  than  formerly.  But,  in  fact,  she  made  a  wide 
distinction  between  the  "boy"  that  he  had  been  and  the 
man  and  widower  which  he  had  come  to  be.  At  first,  she 
had  refused  to  see  the  dividing  line :  having  crossed  it,  her 
new  course  soon  became  as  natural  and  fixed  as  the  old. 
She  was  the  very  type  of  a  mechanically  developed  old 
maid, — inflexibly  stern  towards  male  youth,  devotedly  obe- 
dient to  male  maturity. 

Joseph  had  been  too  profoundly  moved  to  lose  at  once  the 
sense  of  horror  which  the  manner  of  Julia's  death  had  left 
in  his  heart.  He  could  not  forgive  himself  for  having, 
though  never  so  ignorantly,  driven  her  to  madness.  He 
was  troubled,  restless,  unhappy  ;  and  the  mention  of  his  loss 
was  so  painful  that  he  made  every  effort  to  avoid  hearing  it. 
Some  of  his  neighbors,  he  imagined,  were  improperly  cxiri- 
ous  in  their  inquiries.  He  felt  bound,  since  the  doctor  had 
suggested  it,  since  Philip  and  Lucy  had  acquiesced,  and  Mrs. 
Blessing  had  expressed  so  much  alarm  lest  it  might  becoime 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  2S1 

known,  to  keep  the  suicide  a  secret ;  but  lie  was  driven  so 
closely  by  questions  and  remarks  tliut  his  task  became  more 
and  more  difficult. 

Had  the  people  taken  offence  at  his  reticence?  It  seemed 
so;  for  their  manner  towards  him  was  certainly  changed. 
Something  in  the  Look  and  voice;  an  indefinable  uneasiness 
at  meeting  him  ;  an  awkward  haste  and  lame  excuses  for  it. — 
all  these  things  forced  themselves  npon  his  mind.  Elwood 
Withers,  alone,  met  him  as  of  old,  with  even  a  tenderer 
though  a  more  delicately  veiled  affection  ;  yet  in  Elwood's 
face  he  detected  the  signs  of  a  grave  trouble.  It  could  not 
be  possible,  he  thought,  that  Elwood  had  heard  some  sur- 
mise, or  distorted  echo,  of  his  words  to  Lucy  in  the  gar- 
den,— that  there  had  been  another  listener  besides  Julia ! 

There  were  times,  again,  when  he  doubted  all  these  signs, 
when  he  ascribed  them  to  his  own  disturbed  mind,  and  de- 
cided to  banish  them  from  his  memory.  He  would  stay 
quietly  at  home,  he  resolved,  and  grow  into  a  healthier 
mood:  he  would  avoid  the  society  of  men,  until  he  should 
cease  to  wrong  them  by  his  suspicions. 

First,  however,  he  would  see  Philip;  but  on  reaching 
the  Forge  he  found  Philip  absent.  Madeline  received  him 
with  a  subdued  kindness  in  which  lie  felt  her  sympathy  ; 
but  it  was  also  deeper,  he  acknowledged  to  himself,  than  he 
had  any  right  to  claim. 

"  You  do  not  see  much  of  your  neighbors,  I  think,  Mr. 
Asten?"  she  asked.  The  tone  of  her  voice  indicated  a 
slight  embarrassment. 

"  No,"  he  answered  ;  "  I  have  no  wish  to  see  any  but  my 
friends." 

"  Lucy  Henderson  has  just  left  us.  Philip  took  her  to 
her  father's,  and  was  intending  to  call  at  your  place  on  his 


282  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEND. 

way  home.  I  hope  you  will  not  miss  him.  That  is,"  she 
added,  while  a  sudden  flush  of  color  spread  over  her  face, 
"  I  want  you  to  see  him  to-day.  I  beg  you  won't  take  my 
words  as  intended  for  a  dismissal." 

"  Not  now,  certainly,"  said  Joseph.  But  he  rose  from 
his  seat  as  he  spoke. 

Madeline  looked  both  confused  and  pained.  "  I  know 
that  I  spoke  awkwardly,"  she  said,  "  but  indeed  I  was  very 
anxious.  It  was  also  Lucy's  wish.  We  have  been  talking 
about  you  this  morning." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  And  yet — I  ought  to  wish  you  a 
more  cheerful  subject." 

What  was  it  in  Madeline's  face  that  haunted  Joseph  on 
his  way  home?  The  lightsome  spirit  was  gone  from  her 
eyes,  and  they  were  troubled  as  if  by  the  pressure  of  tears, 
held  back  by  a  strong  effort.  Her  assumed  calmness  at 
parting  seemed  to  cover  a  secret  anxiety;  he  had  never 
before  seen  her  bright,  free  nature  so  clouded. 

Philip,  meanwhile,  had  reached  the  farm,  where  he  was 
received  by  Rachel  Miller. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  Joseph  is  not  at  home,"  he  said ; 
"  there  are  some  things  which  I  need  to  discuss  with  you, 
before  I  see  him.  Can  you  guess  what  they  are  ?  Have 
you  heard  nothing, — no  stories  ?  " 

Rachel's  face  grew  pale,  yet  there  was  a  strong  fire  of 
indignation  in  her  eyes.  "Dennis  told  me  an  outrageous 
report  he  had  heard  in  the  village,"  she  said  :  "  if  you  mean 
the  same  thing,  you  did  well  to  see  me  first.  You  can  help 
me  to  keep  this  insult  from  Joseph's  knowledge." 

"  If  I  could  I  would,  Miss  Rachel.  I  share  your  feeling 
about  it ;  but  suppose  the  report  were  now  so  extended — 
and  of  course  in  a  more  exaggerated  form  the  farther  it 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FKIEXD.  2S3 

goes — that  we  cannot  avoid  its  probable  consequences  ? 
This  is  not  like  a  men-  slander,  whi..-h  can  be  suffered  to  die 
of  itself.  It  is  equivalent  to  a  criminal  charge,  and  must 
be  faced." 

She  clasped  her  hands,  and  stared  at  him  in  terror. 

"  But  why,"  she  faltered — "  why  does  any  one  dare  to 
make  such  a  charge  V  And  against  the  best,  the  most  inno- 
cent— " 

"  The  fact  of  th-->  poisoning  cannot  be  concealed,"  said 
Philip.  "  It  appears,  moreover,  that  one  of  the  women  who 
was  in  the  house  on  the  day  of  Julia's  death  heard  her  cry 
out  to  Joseph  :  '  Go  away, — you  have  killed  me  !  '  I  need 
not  take  up  the  reports  any  further ;  there  is  enough  in 
these  two  circumstances  to  excite  the  suspicions  of  those 
who  do  not  know  Joseph  as  we  do.  It  is  better,  therefore, 
to  meet  those  suspicions  before  they  come  to  us  in  a  legal 
form." 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  "  cried  Rachel ;  "  it  is  terrible  !  " 

"  One  course  is  clear,  if  it  is  possible.  We  must  try  to 
discover  not  only  the  cause  of  Julia's  suicide, 'but  the  place 
where  she  procured  the  poison,  and  her  design  in  procuring 
it.  She  must  have  had  it  already  in  the  house." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that.  And  her  ways  were  so  quiet 
and  sly  !  How  shall  we  ever  find  it  out?  O,  to  think  that, 
dead  and  gone  as  she  is,  she  can  yet  bring  all  this  upon 
Joseph ! " 

"  Try  to  be  calm,  Miss  Rachel,"  said  Philip.  "  I  want 
your  help,  and  you  must  have  all  your  wits  about  you. 
First,  you  must  make  a  very  careful  examination  of  her 
clothing  and  effects,  even  to  the  merest  scrap  of  paper.  A 
man's  good  name — a  man's  life,  sometimes — hangs  upon  a 
thread,  in  the  most  literal  sense.  There  is  no  doubt  that 


284  JOSEPH  AXD  ins  FKIKND. 

Julia  meant  to  keep  a  secret,  and  she  must  have  had  a 
strong  reason ;  but  we  have  a  stronger  one,,  now,  to  discover 
it.  First,  as  to  the  poison ;  was  there  any  arsenic  in  the 
house  when  Julia  came  ?  " 

"  Not  a  speck  !     I  never  kept  it,  even  for  rats." 

"  Then  we  shall  begin  with  ascertaining  where  she  bought 
it.  Let  us  make  our  investigations  secretly,  and  as  speedily 
as  possible.  Joseph  need  not  know,  at  present,  what  we 
have  undertaken,  but  he  must  know  the  charge  that  hangs 
over  him.  Unless  I  tell  him,  he  may  learn  it  in  a  more 
violent  way.  I  sent  Ehvood  Withers  to  Magnolia  yester- 
day, and  his  report  leaves  me  no  choice  of  action." 

Rachel  Miller  felt,  from  the  stern  gravity  of  Philip's 
manner,  that  he  had  not  exaggerated  Joseph's  danger.  She 
consented  to  be  guided  by  him  in  all  things  ;  and  this  point 
being  settled,  they  arranged  a  plan  of  action  and  communi- 
cation, which  was  tolerably  complete  by  the  time  Joseph 
returned. 

As  gently  as  possible  Philip  broke  the  unwelcome  news ; 
but,  lightly  as  he  pretended  to  consider  it,  Joseph's  instinct 
saw  at  once  what  might  be  the  consequences.  The  circum- 
stances were  all  burned  upon,  his  consciousness,  and  it 
needed  no  reflection  to  show  him  how  completely  he  was 
entangled  in  them. 

"  There  is  ho  alternative,"  he  said,  at  last.  "  It  was  a 
mistake  to  conceal  the  cause  of  her  death  from  the  public : 
it  is  easy  to  misunderstand  her  exclamation,  and  make  my 
crime  out  of  her  madness.  I  see  the  whole  connection ! 
This  suspicion  will  not  stop  where  it  is.  It  will  go  further ; 
and  therefore  I  must  anticipate  it.  I  must  demand  a  legal 
inquiry  before  the  law  forces  one  upon  me.  If  it  is  not  my 
only  method  of  defence,  it  is  certainly  my  best ! " 


JO>KPH    A  Nil    ins    FRIEND.  2S5 

"  You  are  riglit  !  "  Philip  exclaimed.  "  I  knr-w  this 
would  be  your  decision  ;  I  said  so  to  Macl/line  tliis  morn- 
ing." 

Xow  Madeline's  confused  manner  became  intelligible  to 
Joseph.  Yet  ;i  doubt  still  lingered  in  his  mind.  '•' L>id  she, 
did  Madeline  question  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Neither  she  nor  Lucy  Henderson.  If  you  do  this,  I 
cannot  see  how  it  will  terminate  without  a  trial.  Lucv  may 
then  happen  to  be  an  important  witness." 

Joseph  started.  "  Jfust  that  be!"  he  cried.  ''Has  not 
Lucy  been  already  forced  to  endure  enough  for  my  sake  ? 
Advise  me.  Philip  !  Is  there  any  other  way  than  that  I 
have  proposed  ?  " 

"  I  see  no  other.  But  your  necessity  is  far  greater  than 
that  for  Lucy's  endurance.  She  is  a  friend,  and  there  can 
be  no  sacrifice  in  so  serving  you.  What  are  we  all  good  for, 
if  not  to  serve  you  in  such  a  strait  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  to  spare  her,  nevertheless,"  said  Joseph, 
gloomily.  "  I  meant  so  well  towards  all  my  friends,  and  my 
friendship  seems  to  bring  only  disgrace  and  sorrow." 

"  Joseph ! "  Philip  exclaimed,  "  you  have  saved  one 
friend  from  more  than  disgrace  and  sorrow  !  I  do  not  know 
what  might  have  come,  but  you  called  me  back  from  the 
brink  of  an  awful,  doubtful  eternity  !  You  have  given  me 
an  infinite  loss  and  an  infinite  gain  !  I  only  ask  you,  in 
return,  to  obey  your  first  true,  proud  instinct  of  innocence, 
and  let  me,  and  Lucy,  and  Elwood  be  glad  to  take  its  con- 
sequences, for  your  sake  !  " 

"  I  cannot  help  myself,"  Joseph  answered.  "  My  rash  im- 
patience and  injustice  will  come  to  light,  and  that  may  be  the 
atonement  I  owe.  If  Lucy  will  spare  herself,  and  report  mo 
truly,  as  I  must  have  appeared  to  her,  she  will  serve  me  best." 


286  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Leave  that,  now  !  The  first  step  is  what  most  concerns 
us.  When  will  you  be  ready  to  demand  a  legal  investiga- 
tion ?  " 

"  At  once  ! — to-morrow  !  " 

"  Then  we  will  go  together  to  Magnolia.  I  fear  we  can- 
not change  the  ordinary  forms  of  procedure,  and  there  must 
be  bail  for  your  appearance  at  the  proper  time." 

"  Already  on  the  footing  of  a  criminal  ?"  Joseph  mur- 
mured, with  a  sinking  of  the  heart.  He  had  hardly  compre- 
hended, xip  to  this  moment,  what  his  position  would  be. 

The  next  day  they  drove  to  the  county  town.  The  step 
had  not  been  taken  a  moment  too  soon,  for  such  representa- 
tions had  been  made  that  a  warrant  for  Joseph's  arrest  was 
in  the  hands  of  the  constable,  and  would  have  been  served 
in  a  few  hours.  Philip  and  Mr.  Hopeton,  who  also  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  town  by  a  fortunate  chance  (though 
Philip  knew  how  the  chance  came),  offered  to  accept  what- 
ever amount  of  bail  might  be  demanded.  The  matter  was 
arranged  as  privately  as  possible,  but  it  leaked  out  in  some 
way,  and  Philip  was  seriously  concerned  lest  the  curiosity — 
perhaps,  even,  the  ill-will — of  a  few  persons  might  be  mani- 
fested towards  Jo'seph.  He  visited  the  offices  of  the  county 
papers,  and  took  care  that  the  voluntary  act  should  be 
stated  in  such  a  manner  as  to  set  its  character  properly 
before  the  people.  Everything,  he  felt,  depended  on  se- 
curing a  fair  and  unprejudiced  judgment  of  the  case. 

This,  indeed,  was  far  more  important  than  even  he  sus- 
pected. In  a  country  where  the  press  is  so  entirely  free, 
and  where,  owing  to  the  lazy,  indifferent  habit  of  thought — 
or,  rather,  habit  of  no  thought — of  the  people,  the  editorial 
views  are  accepted  without  scrutiny,  a  man's  good  name 
or  life  may  depend  on  the  coloring  given  to  his  acts  by  a  few 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FEIKXTX  2S7 

individual  minds,  it  is  especially  neressarv  to  keep  the 
balance  even,  to  offset  one  .statement  by  another,  and  pre- 
vent a  partial  pivs-.'ntatiuu  of  the  case  from  turning  the 
scales  in  advance.  The  same  phenomena  were  as  likelv  to 
present  themselves  here,  before  a  small  public,  as  in  the 
large  cities,  where  the  whole  population  of  the  countrv 
beconie  a  more  or  less  interested  public.  The  result  might 
hiiige,  not  upon  Joseph's  personal  character  as  his  friends 
knew  it,  but  upon  the  political  party  with  which  ho  was  afli- 
liated,  the  church  to  which  he  belonged, — nav,  even  upon 
the  accordance  of  his  personal  sentiments  with  the  public 
sentiment  of  the  community  in  which  he  lived.  If  lie  had 
dared  to  defy  the  latter,  asserting  the  sacred  right  of  his  own 
mind  to  the  largest  liberty,  he  was  already  a  marked  man. 
Philip  did  not  understand  the  extent  and  power  of  the  ex- 
ternal influences  which  control  what  we  complacently  call 
"justice,"  but  he  knew  something  of  the  world,  and  acted  in 
reality  more  prudently  than  he  supposed. 

He  was  calm  and  cheerful  for  Joseph's  sake  ;  yet,  now 
that  the  matter  was  irrevocably  committed  to  the  decision 
of  a  new,  uninterested  tribunal,  he  began  to  feel  the  gravity 
of  his  friend's  position. 

"  I  almost  wish,"  Joseph  said,  as  they  drove  homewards, 
"  that  no  bail  had  been  granted.  Since  the  court  meets  in 
October,  a  few  weeks  of  seclusion  would  do  me  no  harm ; 
whereas  now  I  am  a  suspected  person  to  nearly  all  whom  I 
may  meet." 

"  It  is  not  agreeable,"  Philip  answered,  "  but  the  disci- 
pline may  be  useful.  The  bail  terminates  when  the  trial 
commences,  you  understand,  and  you  will  have  a  few  nights 
alone,  as  it  is, — quite  enough,  I  imagine,  to  make  you  satis- 
fied with  liberty  under  suspicion.  However  I  have  one 


288  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

demand  to  make,  Joseph  !  I  have  thought  over  all  possible 
lines  of  defence ;  I  have  secured  legal  assistance  for  you, 
and  we  are  agreed  as  to  the  course  to  be  adopted.  I  do 
not  think  you  can  help  us  at  all.  If  we  find  that  you 
can,  we  will  call  upon  you ;  in  the  mean  time,  wait  and 
hope  !  " 

"  Why  should  I  not ?"  Joseph  asked.  "I  have  nothing 
to  fear,  Philip." 

"  No  !  "  But  Philip's  emphatic  answer  was  intended  to 
deceive.  He  was  purposely  false,  knew  himself  to  be  so, 
and  yet  his  conscience  never  troubled  him  less  ! 

When  they  reached  the  farm,  Philip  saw  by  Rachel  Mil- 
ler's face  that  she  had  a  communication  to  make.  It  re- 
quired a  little  management  to  secure  an  interview  with  her 
without  Joseph's  knowledge ;  but  some  necessity  for  his 
presence  at  the  barn  favored  his  friend.  No  sooner  were 
they  alone  than  Rachel  approached  Philip  hastily  and  said, 
in  a  hurried  whisper  : — 

"  Here !  I  have  found  something,  at  last !  It  took  a 
mighty  search :  I  thought  I  never  should  come  upon  the 
least  bit  that  we  could  make  anything  of:  but  this  was  in 
the  upper  part  of  a  box  where  she  kept  her  rings  and 
chains,  and  such  likes !  Take  it, — it  makes  me  uncomfort- 
able to  hold  it  in  my  fingers  !  " 

She  thrust  a  small  paper1  into  his  hand. 

It  was  folded  very  neatly,  and  there  was  an  apothecary's 
label  on  the  back.  Philip  read :  "  Ziba  Linthicum's  Drug 
store,  No.  77  Main  St.,  Magnolia."  Under  this  printed 
address  was  written  in  large  lettiers  the  word  "  Arsenic." 
On  unfolding  the  paper  he  saw  that  a  little  white  dust 
remained  in  the  creases :  quite  enough  to  identify  the  char- 
acter of  the  diw. 


JOSEPH    AM)    ms    FliTEND.  230 

"I  shall  go  back  to-morrow!"  ho  said.  "Thank  Hea- 
ven, \ve  liave  got  one  dew  to  the  mystery!  Joseph  must 
know  nothing  of  this  until  all  is  explained;  but  while  I  inn. 
gone  make  another  and  more  thorough  search  !  Leave  no 
cornei  unexplored :  I  am  sure  we  shall  find  something 
more." 

"  I'd  rip  up  her  dresses  !  "  was  EachiTs  emphatic  reply. 
"  That  is,  if  it  would  do  any  good.  But  perhaps  feeling 
of  the  lining  and  the  hems  might  bo  enough.  I'll  toko 

O  o  o 

every  drawer  out,  and  move  the  furniture  !  But  I  must 
wait  for  daylight :  I'm  not  generally  afeared,  but  there  is 
some  things,  you  know,  which  a  body  would  as  lief  not  do 
by  night,  with  cracks  and  creaks  all  around  you,  which  you 
don't  seem  to  hear  at  other  times." 
13 


290  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEND. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    LABELS. 

THE  work  at  Coventry  Forge  was  now  so  well  organized 
that  Philip  could  easily  give  the  most  of  his  time  to  Joseph's 
vindication.  He  had  secured  the  services  of  an  excellent 
country  lawyer,  but  he  also  relied  much  upon  the  assistance 
of  two  persons,— his  sister  Madeline  and  Elwood  Withers  : 
Madeline,  from  her  rapid,  clear  insight,  her  shrewd  interpre- 
tation of  circumstances  ;  and  Elwood  as  an  active,  untiring 
practical  agent. 

The  latter,  according  to  agreement,  had  ridden  up  from 
his  section  of  the  railway,  and  was  awaiting  Philip  when  he 
returned  home. 

Philip  gave  them  the  history  of  the  day, — this  time 
frankly,  with  all  the  signs  and  indications  which  he  had  so 
carefully  kept  from  Joseph's  knowledge.  Both  looked 
aghast ;  and  Elwood  bent  an  ivory  paper-cutter  so  suddenly 
in  his  hands  that  it  snapped  in  twain.  He  colored  like  a 
girl. 

"  It  serves  me  right,"  ho  said.  "  Whenever  my  hands  are 
idle,  Satan  finds  mischief  for  'em, — as  the  spelling-book  says. 
But  just  so  the  people  bend  and  twist  Joseph  Asten's  cha- 
racter, and  just  so  unexpectedly  his  life  may  snap  in  their 
hands ! " 

"  May  the  omen  be  averted ! "  Madeline  cried.  "  Put 
down  the  pieces,  Mr.  Withers  !  You  frighten  me." 

"  No,  it  is  reversed  !  "  said  Philip.     "  Just  so  Joseph's 


291 

friends  will  snap  this  chain  of  circumstances.  If  yon  begin 
to  be  superstitions,  I  nmst  look  out  for  other  aids.  The 
tracing  of  the  poison  is  a  more  fortunate  step  than  I  hoped, 
at  the  start.  1  cannot  at  all  guess  to  v>  hat  it  may  lead,  but 
there  is  a  point  beyond  which  even  the  most  malignant  fate 
has  no  further  power  over  an  innocent  man.  Tims  far  we 
have  met  nothing  but  hostile  circumstances  :  there  seems  to 
be  more  than  Chance  in  the  game,  and  I  have  an  idea  that 
the  finding  of  this  paper  will  break  the  evil  spell.  Come 
now,  Madeline,  and  yon,  Withers,  give  me  your  guesses  as 
to  what  my  discovery  shall  be  to-morrow  !  " 

After  a  pause,  Madeline  answered  :  "  It  must  have 
been  purchased— perhaps  even  by  Mr.  Asten— for  rats 
or  mice ;  and  she  may  have  swallowed  the  drug  in  a  fit  of 
passion." 

"  I  think,"  said  Elwood,  "  that  she  bought  it  for  the  pur- 
pose of  poisoning  Joseph  !  Then,  may  be,  the  glasses  were 
changed,  as  I've  heard  tell  of  a  man  whose  wife  changed  his 
coffee-cup  because  there  was  a  fly  in  it,  giving  him  hers,  and 
thereby  innocently  killed  him  when  lie  meant  to  ha'  killed 
her." 

"  Ha  !  "  Philip  cried ;  "  the  most  incredible  things,  appa- 
rently, are  sometimes  the  most  natural !  I  had  not  thought 
of  this  explanation." 

"  O  Philip  !  "  said  Madeline,  "  that  would  be  a  new  hor- 
ror !  Pray,  let  us  not  think  of  it :  indeed,  indeed,  we  must 
not  guess  any  more." 

Philip  strove  to  put  the  idea  from  his  mind :  he  feared 
lest  it  might  warp  his  judgment  and  mislead  him  in  investi- 
gations which  it  required  a  cool,  sharp  intellect  to  prose- 
cute. But  the  idea  would  not  stay  away :  ifc  haunted  him 
precisely  on  account  of  its  enormity,  and  he  rode  again  to 


292  joeKPii  AXD  ins  FRIEXD. 

Magnolia  the  next  day  with  a  foreboding  sense  of  some  tra- 
gic secret  about  to  be  revealed. 

But  he  never  could  have  anticipated  the  actual  revela- 
tion. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  finding  Ziba  Linthicum's  drug- 
store. The  proprietor  was  a  lank,  thin-faced  man,  with  pro- 
jecting, near-sighted  eyes,  and  an  exceedingly  prim,  pursed 
mouth.  His  words,  uttered  in  the  close,  wiry  twang  pecu- 
liar to  Southern  Pennsylvania,  seemed  to  give  him  a  posi- 
tive relish  :  one  could  fancy  that  his  mouth  watered  slightly 
as  he  spoke.  His  long,  lean  lips  had  a  settled  smirk  at  the 
corner,  and  the  skin  was  drawn  so  tightly  over  his  broad, 
concave  chin-bone  that  it  shone,  as  if  polished  around  the 
edges. 

He  was  waiting  upon  a  little  girl  when  Philip  entered ; 
but  he  looked  up  from  his  scales,  bowed,  smiled,  and  said : 
"  In  a  moment,  if  you  please." 

Philip  leaned  upon  the  glass  case,  apparently  absorbed  in 
the  contemplation  of  the  various  soaps  and  perfumes  under 
his  eyes,  but  thinking  only  of  the  paper  in  his  pocket-book. 

"  Something  in  this  line,  perhaps  ?  " 

Mr.  Linthicum,  with  a  still  broader  smile,  began  to  enu- 
merate :  "  These  are  from  the  Society  Hygiennick — ' 

"  No,"  said  Philip,  "  my  business  is  especially  private. 
I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have  many  little  confidential 
matters  intrusted  to  you." 

"  Oh,  undoxibtedly,  sir  !     Quite  as  much  so  as  a  physician." 

"  You  are  aware  also  that  mistakes  sometimes  occur  in 
making  up  prescriptions,  or  in  using  them  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Not  by  me,  I  should  hope.  I  keep  a  record  of  every 
dangerous  ingredient  which  goes  out  of  my  hands." 

"Ah!"    Philip  exclaimed.     Then  he  paused,  uncertain 


JoSKl'IT    AND    1113    FKIKND.  203 

how  nnicli  to  confide  to  Mr.  Linthirnm's  discretion.  But 
on  mentioning  his  name  and  residence,  lie  found  that  both 
himself  and  Mr.  Jfopeton  were  known. —  and  favorably,  it 
seemed — to  the  apothecary.  Ife  knew  the  class  of  men  to 
which  the  latter  belonged, — prim,  fussy,  harmlessly  vain 
persons,  yet  who  take  as  good  care  of  their  consciences  as  of 
their  cravats  and  shirt-bosoms.  lie  produced  the  paper 
without  further  delay. 

"  That  was  bought  here,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  Linthicum. 
"The  word  'Arsenic'  is  written  in  my  hand.  The  date 
when,  and  the  person  by  whom  it  was  purchased,  must  be 
in  my  register.  Will  you  go  over  it  with  me  ?  " 

He  took  a  volume  from  a  drawer,  and  beginning  at  the 
last  entry,  they  went  slowly  backward  over  the  names,  the 
apothecary  saying  :  "  This  is  confidential :  I  rely  upon  your 
seeing  without  remembering." 

They  had  not  gone  back  more  than  two  or  three  weeks 
before  Philip  came  upon  a  name  that  made  his  heart  stand 
still.  There  was  a  record  in  a  single  line  : — 

"  Jfiss  Henderson.     Arsenic." 

He  waited  a  few  seconds,  until  he  felt  sure  of  his  voice. 
Then  he  asked :  "  Do  you  happen  to  know  Miss  Henderson  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all !     A  perfect  stranger." 

"  Can  you,  perhaps,  remember  her  appearance?  " 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Mr.  Linthicum,  biting  the  end  of  his 
forefinger ;  "  that  must  have  been  the  veiled  lady.  The 
date  corresponds.  Yes,  I  feel  sure  of  it,  as  all  the  other 
poison  customers  are  known  to  me." 

"  Pray  describe  her  then  !  "  Philip  exclaimed. 

"  Really,  I  fear  that  I  cannot.  Dressed  in  black,  I  think; 
but  I  will  not  be  positive.  A  soft,  agreeable  voice,  I  am 
sure." 


294  JOSEPH    AND    1 1  IS    FlilENI). 

"  Was  she  alone  ?     Or  was  any  one  else  present  ?  " 

"  Now  I  do  recall  one  thing,"  the  apothecary  answered. 
"There  was  an  agent  of  a  wholesale  city  firm — a  travelling 
agent,  you  understand— trying  to  persuade  me  into  an  order 
on  his  house.  He  stepped  on  one  side  as  she  came  to  the 
counter,  and  he  perhaps  saw  her  face  more  distinctly,  for  he 
laughed  as  she  left,  and  said  something  about  a  handsome 
girl  putting  her  lovers  out  of  their  misery." 

But  Mr.  Linfchicum  could  remember  neither  the  name  of 
the  agent  nor  that  of  the  firm  which  he  represented.  All 
Philip's  questioning  elicited  no  further  particulars,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  be  satisfied  with  the  record  of  the  day  and 
probable  hour  of  the  purchase,  and  with  the  apothecary's 
promise  of  the  strictest  secrecy. 

He  rode  immediately  home,  and  after  a  hasty  consulta- 
tion with  Madeline,  remounted  his  horse  and  set  out  to  find 
Lucy  Henderson.  He  was  fortunate  enough  to  meet  her  on 
the  highway,  on  her  way  to  call  xipon  a  neighbor.  Spring- 
ing from  his  horse  he  walked  beside  her,  and  announced  his 
discovery  at  once. 

Lucy  remembered  the  day  when  she  had  accompanied  Julia 
to  Magnolia,  during  Joseph's  absence  from  home.  The  time 
of  the  day,  also,  corresponded  to  that  given  by  the  apothecary. 

"  Did  you  visit  the  drug-store  ?  "  Philip  asked. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  did  not  know  that  Julia 
had.  I  paid  two  or  three  visits  to  acquaintances,  while 
she  did  her  shopping,  as  she  told  me." 

"  Then  try  and  remember,  not  only  the  order  of  those 
visits,  but  the  time  occupied  by  each,"  said  Philip.  "  Write 
to  your  friends,  and  ask  them  to  refresh  their  memories.  It 
has  become  an  important  point,  for — the  poison  was  purchas- 
ed in  your  name  !  " 


"Impossible!"  Lucy  cried.  She  gazed  at  Philip  with 
such  amazement  that  her  innocence  \vas  then  iixed  in  his 
mind,  if  it  had  not  been  so  before. 

'•  Yes,  1  say  •'  impossible  !  '  too,"  he  answered.  '"There  is 
only  one  explanation.  Julia  Asu-n  gave  your  name  instead 
of  her  own  when  she  purchased  it.'' 

'-  Oh  !  ''  Lucy's  voice  sounded  like  a  hopeless  personal 
protest  against  the  collective  falsehood  and  wickedness  of  the 
world. 

"  I  have  another  chance  to  reach  the  truth,"  said  Philip. 
"  I  shall  tind  the  stranger, — the  travelling  agent, — if  it 
obliges  me  to  summon  every  such  agent  of  every  wholesale 
drug-hottse  in  the  city  !  It  is  at  least  a  positive  fortune 
that  we  have  made  this  discovery  now." 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  "  I  have  just  time  to  catch  the 
evening  train,"  he  said,  hurriedly,  "  but  I  should  like  to  send 
a  message  to  Elwood  Withers.  If  you  pass  through  that 
wood  on  the  right,  you  will  see  the  track  just  below  you.  It 
is  not  more  than  half  a  mile  from  here ;  and  you  are  almost 
sure  to  find  him  at  or  near  the  unfinished  tunnel.  Tell  him 
to  see  Rachel  Miller,  and  if  anything  further  has  been  found, 
to  inform  my  sister  Madeline  at  once.  That  is  all.  I  make 
no  apology  for  imposing  the  service  on  you :  good-by,  and 
keep  up  your  faith,  Lucy  !  " 

He  pressed  her  hand,  sprang  into  the  saddle,  and  cantered 
briskly  away. 

Lucy,  infected  by  his  haste,  crossed  the  field,  struggled 
through  the  under-growth  of  the  wild  belt  of  wood,  and  de- 
scended to  the  railway  track,  without  giving  herself  time  to 
think.  She  met  a  workman  near  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel, 
and  not  daring  to  venture  in,  sent  by  him  a  summons  to 
Elwood.  It  was  not  many  minutes  before  he  appeared. 


296  JOSEPH  AND  JITS  FRIEND. 

"  Something  Las  happened,  Lucy  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Philip  thinks  he  has  made  a  discovery,"  she  answered, 
"  and  1  conic  to  you  as  his  messenger."  She  then  repeated 
Philip's  words. 

"  Is  that  all?  "  El  wood  asked,  scanning  her  face  anxiously. 
"  You  do  not  seem  quite  like  your  real  self,  Lucy." 

She  sat  down  upon  the  bank.  "  I  am  out  of  breath,"  she 
said  ;  "  I  nuist  have  walked  faster  than  I  thought." 

"  Wait  a  minute  !  "  said  he.  He  ran  up  the  track,  to 
where  a  little  side-glen  crossed  it,  sprang  down  among  the 
bushes,  and  presently  reappeared  with  a  tin  cup  full  of  cold, 
pure  spring  water. 

The  draught  seemed  to  revive  her  at  once.  "  It  is  not  all, 
Elwood,"  she  said.  "  Joseph  is  not  the  only  one,  now,  who 
is  implicated  by  the  same  circumstances." 

"  Who  else  ?— not  Philip  Held  !  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  very  quietly,  "  it  is  a  woman.  Her 
name  is  Lucy  Henderson." 

Before  Elwood  could  speak,  she  told  him  all  that  she  had 
heard  from  Philip.  He  could  scarcely  bring  his  mind  to 
accept  its  truth. 

"  Oh,  the — "  he  began ;  "  but,  no  !  I  will  keep  the  words  to 
myself.  There  is  something  deeper  in  this  than  any  of  us  has 
yet  looked  for  !  Depend  upon  it,  Lucy,  she  had  a  plan  in 
getting  you  there  !  " 

Lucy  was  silent.  She  fancied  she  knew  Julia's  plan  al- 
ready. 

"  Did  she  mean  to  poison  Joseph  herself,  and  throw  the 
suspicion  on  you  ?  And  now  by  her  own  death,  after  all, 
she  accomplishes  her  chief  end  !  It  is  a  hellish  tangle,  which- 
ever way  I  look  ;  but  they  say  that  the  truth  will  sooner  or 
later  put  down  any  amount  of  lies,  and  so  it  must  be,  here. 


297 

We  must  got  at  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth  !  Do  you  not  say  so,  Lucv  ?  " 

"Yes  !  "  she  answered  tiriuly,  looking  him  in  the  face. 

';  Ay,  though  u1!  should  come  to  li;j;ht  !  VTc>  can't  toll 
what  it  may  be  necessary  to  say.  They  may  go  to  work 
and  unravel  Joseph's  life,  and  yours,  and  mine,  and  hold  up 
the  stuff  for  everybody  to  look  at.  AVell,  let  'em  !  say  I. 
If  there  are  dark  streak's  in  mine,  I  guess  they'll  look  toler- 
ably fair  beside  that  one  black  heart.  YvVre  here  alone, 
Lucy  ;  there  may  not  be  a  chance  to  say  it  soon  again,  so 
I'll  say  now,  that  if  need  comes  to  publish  what  I  said  to 
you  one  night  a  year  ago, — to  publish  it  for  Joseph's  sake, 
or  your  sake, — don't  keep  back  a  single  word  !  The  worst 
•would  be,  some  men  or  women  might  think  me  conceited." 

"  No,  El  wood  !  "  she  exclaimed  :  "  that  reproach  would 
fall  on  me !  You  once  offered  me  your  help,  and  I — I  fear 
I  spiirned  it ;  but  I  will  take  it  now.  Nay,  I  beg  you  to 
offer  it  to  me  again,  and  I  will  accept  it  with  gratitude  ! " 

She  rose,  and  stretched  out  her  hand. 

Elwood  clasped  it  tenderly,  held  it  a  moment,  and  seemed 
about  to  speak.  But  although  his  lips  parted,  and  there 
was  a  movement  of  the  muscles  of  his  throat,  lie  did  not 
utter  a  word.  In  another  moment  he  turned,  walked  a  few 
yards  xip  the  track,  and  then  came  back  to  her. 

"  No  one  could  mistake  you  for  Julia  Asten,"  he  said. 
"  You  are  at  least  half  a  head  taller  than  she  was.  Your 
voice  is  not  at  all  the  same :  the  apothecary  will  surely 
notice  the  difference !  Then  an  alibi,  as  they  call  it,  can  be 
proved." 

"  So  Philip  Held  thought.  But  if  my  friends  should  not 
remember  the  exact  time, — what  should  I  then  do  "i  " 

"  Lucy,  don't  ask  yourself  the  question  now  !  It  seems 
13* 


298  JOSEPJI  AM)  ins  FKIKXD. 

to  me  that  the  case  stands  this  way :  one  evil  woman  has 
made  a  trap,  fallen  into  it  herself,  and  taken  the  secret  of  its 
make  away  with  her.  There  is  nothing  more  to  be  invented, 
and  so  we  hold  all  that  we  gain.  While  we  are  mining, 
where's  the  counter-mining  to  come  from  ?  Who  is  to  lie 
us  out  of  our  truth?  There  isn't  much  to  stand  on  yet,  I 
grant ;  but  another  step — the  least  little  thing—  may  give  us 
all  the  ground  we  wrant !  " 

He  spoke  so  firmly  and  cheerily  that  Lucy's  despondent 
feeling  was  charmed  away.  Besides,  nothing  could  have 
touched  her  more  than  Elwood's  heroic  self-control.  After 
the  miserable  revelation  which  Philip  had  made,  it  was 
unspeakably  refreshing  to  be  brought  into  contact  with  a 
nature  so  sound  and  sweet  and  strong.  When  he  had  led 
her  by  an  easier  path  up  the  hill,  and  they  had  parted  at  the 
end  of  the  lane  leading  to  her  father's  house,  she  felt,  as 
never  before/ the  comfort  of  relying  so  wholly  on  a  faithful 
man  friend. 

Elwood  took  his  horse  and  rode  to  the  Asten  farm. 
Joseph's  face  brightened  at  his  appearance,  and  they  talked 
as  of  old,  avoiding  the  dark  year  that  lay  between  their  past 
intimacy  and  its  revival.  As  in  Philip's  case,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  communicate  secretly  with  Rachel  Miller;  but 
Elwood,  with  great  patience,  succeeded  in  looking  his  wish 
to  speak  with  her,  and  uniting  her  efforts  with  his  own.  She 
adroitly  turned  the  conversation  upon  a  geological  work 
which  Joseph  had  been  reading. 

"  I've  been  looking  into  the  subject  myself,"  Elwood  said. 
"  Would  you  let  me  see  the  book :  it  may  be  the  thing  I 
want."  • 

"  It  is  on  the  book-shelf  in  your  bedroom,  Joseph,"  Ra- 
chel remarked. 


299 

There  was  time  enough  for  Fiwoccl  to  declai'C  his  biisiness 
and  for  llaehel  to  answer:  '•  Mr.  Held  said  every  scrap,  and 
it  is  but  a  scrap,  with  half  a  name  on  it.  i  found  it  behind 
and  mostly  under  the  IOW-.T  drawer  in  the  same  box.  I'll 
get  it  before  you  leave,  and  give  it  to  you  v.-hen  we  shake 
hands.  Be  careful,  for  he  may  make  something  out  of  it, 
after  all.  Tell  him  there  isn't  a  stitch  in  a  dress  but  I've 
examined,  and  a  mortal  work  it  was  !  " 

It  was  late  before  El  wood  could  leave ;  nevertheless,  he 
rode  to  Coventry  Forge.  The  scrap  of  paper  had  been  suc- 
cessfully transferred,  and  his  pressing  duty  was  to  deliver  it 
into  the  hands  of  Madeline  Held.  He  found  her  anxiously 
waiting,  in  accordance  with  Philip's  instructions. 

When  they  looked  at  the  paper,  it  seemed,  truly,  to  be  a 
worthless  fragment.  It  had  the  character,  also,  of  au  apothe- 
cary's label,  but  the  only  letters  remaining  were  those  form- 
ing the  end  of  the  name,  apparently  — ers,  and  a  short  distance 
under  them  — Sis. 

" '  Behind  and  mostly  under  the  lower  drawer  of  her 
jewel-case,"  said  Madeline,  musingly.  "  I  think  I  might 
guess  how  it  came  there.  She  had  seen  the  label,  which  had 
probably  been  forgotten,  and  then,  as  she  supposed,  had 
snatched  it  away  and  destroyed  it,  without  noticing  that  this 
piece,  caught  behind  the  drawer,  had  been  torn  off.  But 
there  is  no  evidence — and  perhaps  none  can  be  had — that 
the  paper  contained  poison." 

"  Can  you  make  anything  out  of  the  letters  ?  "  Elwood 
asked. 

"  The  '  Sts '  certainly  means  '  Streets ' — now,  I  see  !  It  is  a 
corner  house  !  Tliis  makes  the  place  a  little  more  easy  to  be 
identified.  If  Philip  cannot  find  it,  I  am  sure  a  detective  can. 
I  will  write  to  him  at  once." 


300  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEND. 

"  Then  I'll  wait  and  ride  to  the  oilice  with  the  letter," 
said  Ehvood. 

Madeline  rose,  and  commenced  walking  up  and  down  the 
room  :  she  appeared  to  be  suddenly  and  unusually  excited. 

"  I  have  a  new  suspicion,"  she  said,  at  last.  "  Perhaps  I 
am  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  make  conjectures,  because 
Philip  thinks  I  have  a  talent  for  it, — and  yet,  this  grows  up- 
011  me  every  minute  !  I  hope — oh,  I  hope  1  am  right !  " 

She  spoke  with  so  much  energy  that  Elwood  began  to  share 
her  excitement  without  knowing  its  cause.  She  noticed  the 
eager,  waiting  expression  of  his  face. 

"  You  must  really  pardon  me,  Mr.  Withers.  I  believe  I 
was  talking  to  myself  rather  than  to  you  ;  I  will  not  mention 
my  fancy  until  Philip  decides  whether  it  is  worth  acting  upon. 
There  will  be  no  harm  if  each  of  us  finds  a  different  clew,  and 
follows  it.  Philip  will  hardly  leave  the  city  to-morrow.  I 
shall  not  write,  but  go  down  with  the  first  train  in  the  morn- 
ing!" 

Elwood  took  his  leave,  feeling  hopeful  and  yet  very  restless. 

It  was  a  long  while  before  Madeline  encountered  Philip. 
He  was  busily  employed  in  carrying  out  his  plan  of  tracing 
the  travelling  agent, — not  yet  successful,  but  sanguine  of 
success.  He  examined  the  scrap  of  paper  which  Madeline 
brought,  listened  to  her  reasons  for  the  new  suspicion  which 
had  crossed  her  mind,  and  compared  them  with  the  little 
evidence  already  collected. 

"  Do  not  let  us  depend  too  seriously  on  this,"  he  then  said  ; 
"  there  is  about  an  even  chance  that  you  are  right.  We  will 
keep  it  as  an  additional  and  independent  test,  but  we  dare 
not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  law  will  assume  Joseph's 
guilt,  and  we  must  establish  his  innocence,  first  of  all.  Nay, 
if  we  can  simply  prove  that  Julia,  and  not  Lucy,  purchased 


the  poison,  we  shall  save  Loth  !     Hut,  at  the  same  time.  I  will 
try  to  lind  this  -      ,v,  v,-],,,  lives  in  a  conier-hua.se,  and  I  will 

have  a  talk  with  old  Bie.-.^ini:  this  very  eveuin"." 

«•  o* 

';  \Vhy  not  go  now?" 

''Patience,  you  impetuous  girl!  1  mean  to  take  no  step 
without  working  out  every  possible  result  in  advance.  If 
I  were  not  here  in  the  city,  I  would  consult  with  Mr. 
Piiikertoii  before  proceeding  further.  Xow  I  shall  take  YOU 
to  the  train:  you  must  return  to  Coventry,  and  watch  and 
wait  there." 

"When.  Philip  called  at  the  Blessing  mansion,  in  the  even- 
ing, he  found  only  Mrs.  Blessing  at  home.  She  was  rigid 
and  dreary  in  her  mourning,  and  her  reception  of  him  was 
almost  repellant  in  its  stiff  formality. 

"Mr.  Blessing  is  absent,"  she  explained,  inviting  Philip 
to  a  seat  by  a  wave  of  her  hand.  "  His  own  interests  ren- 
dered a  trip  to  the  Oil  Regions  imperative;  it  is  a  mental 
distraction  which  I  do  not  grudge  him.  This  is  a  cheerless 
household,  sir, — one  daughter  gone  forever,  and  another 
about  to  leave  us.  How  does  Mr.  Asten  bear  his  loss  ?  " 

Philip  thereupon,  as  briefly  and  forcibly  as  possible, 
related  all  that  had  occurred.  "  I  wish  to  consult  Mr. 
Blessing,"  he  concluded,  "  in  relation  to  the  possibility  of 
his  being  able  to  furnish  any  testimony  on  his  son-in-law's 
side.  Perhaps  you,  also — " 

"  No  !  "  she  interrupted.  "  I  know  nothing  whatever  ! 
If  the  trial  (which  I  think  most  xtnnecessary  and  shocking) 
gets  into  the  city  papers,  it  will  be  a  terrible  scandal  for  us. 
When  will  it  come  on,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  In  two  or  three  weeks." 

"  Theie  will  be  barely  time  !  "  she  cried. 

"  For  that  reason,"  said  he,  "  I  wish   to  secure  the  evi- 


502  JOSKPII    AND    IITS    FRIEND. 

dence  at  once.  All  the  preparations  for  the  defence  must 
be  completed  within  that  time." 

"  Clementina,"  Mrs.  Blessing  continued,  without  heeding 
his  words,  "  will  be  married  about  the  first  of  October.  Mr. 
Spelter  has  been  desirous  of  making  a  bridal  tour  in  Europe. 
She  did  not  favor  the  plan ;  but  it  seems  to  me  like  an  inter- 
position of  Heaven !  " 

Philip  rose,  too  disgusted  to  speak.  He  bowed  in  silence, 
and  left  the  house. 


JOSEPH    AM)    HIS    FJIIEND.  303 


CHATTER  XXArIII. 

THE    TRIAL. 

As  the  day  of  triul  drew  nigh,  the  anxiety  and  activity-  of 
Joseph's  friends  increased,  so  that  even  the  quiet  atmosphere 
wherein  lie  lived  was  disturbed  by  it.  He  could  not  help 
knowing  that  they  were  engaged  in  collecting  evidence,  but 
inasmuch  as  Philip  always  said,  "You  can  do  nothing!" 
he  forced  himself  to  wait  with  such  patience  as  was  possible. 
Rachel  Miller,  who  had  partly  taken  the  hired  man,  Den- 
nis, into  her  confidence,  hermetically  sealed  the  hoxise  to 
the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood ;  but  her  greatest  triumph 
was  in  concealing  her  alarm,  as  the  days  rolled  by  and  the 
mystery  was  not  yet  unravelled. 

There  was  not  much  division  of  opinion  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, however.  The  growing  discord  between  husband  and 
wife  had  not  been  generally  remarked :  they  were  looked  upon 
as  a  loving  and  satisfied  couple.  Joseph's  integrity  of  charac- 
ter was  acknowledged,  and,  even  had  it  been  doubted,  the 
people  saw  no  motive  for  crime.  His  action  in  demanding 
a  legal  investigation  also  operated  favorably  upon  public 
opinion. 

The  quiet  and  seclusion  were  beneficial  to  him.  His  mind 
became  calmer  and  clearer ;  he  was  able  to  survey  the  past 
without  passion,  and  to  contemplate  his  own  faults  with 
a  sense  of  wholesome  bitterness  rather  than  pain.  The 
approaching  trial  was  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  anticipate,  but 
the  worst  which  he  foresaw  was  the  probability  of  so  much 


304  JOSKPJl    AND   HIS    KK1KXD. 

of  his  private  life  being  laid  bare  to  the  world.  Here, 
again,  his  own  words  returned  to  condemn  him.  Had  he 
not  said  to  Lucy,  on  the  morning  of  that  fatal  day,  "  I  am 
sick  of  masks  !  "  Had  he  not  threatened  to  follow  Julia 
with  his  own  miserable  story  ?  The  system  of  checks 
which  restrain  impulse,  and  the  whirl  of  currents  and  coun- 
ter-currents which  govern  a  man's  movement  through  life, 
began  to  arrange  themselves  in  his  mind.  True  wisdom,  he 
now  felt,  lay  in  understanding  these,  and  so  employing  them 
as  to  reach  individual  liberty  of  action  through  law,  and  not 
outside  of  it.  He  had  been  shallow  and  reckless,  even  in 
his  good  impulses ;  it  was  now  time  to  endure  quietly  for  a 
season  what  their  eft'ect  had  been. 

The  day  previous  to  the  trial  Philip  had  a  long  consulta- 
tion with  Mr.  Pinkerton.  He  had  been  so  far  successful 
that  the  name  and  whereabouts  of  the  travelling  agent  had 
been  discovered :  the  latter  had  been  summoned,  but  he 
could  not  possibly  arrive  before  the  next  day.  Philip  had 
also  seen  Mr.  Blessing,  who  entered  with  great  readiness 
into  his  plans,  promised  his  assistance  in  ascertaining  the 
truth  of  Madeline's  suspicion,  and  would  give  his  testimony 
as  soon  as  he  could  return  from  New  York,  whither  he  had 
gone  to  say  farewell  to  Mrs.  Clementina  Spelter,  before  her 
departure  for  Paris  on  a  bridal  journey.  These  were  the 
two  principal  witnesses  for  the  defence,  and  it  was  yet  un- 
certain what  kind  of  testimony  they  would  be  able  to  give. 

"  We  must  finish  the  other  witnesses,"  Mr.  Pinkerton 
said,  "  (who,  in  spite  of  all  we  can  do,  will  strengthen  the 
prosecution),  by  the  time  you  reach  here.  If  Spenham 
gives  us  trouble,  as  I  am  inclined  to  suspect,  we  cannot 
well  spare  you  the  first  day,  but  I  suppose  it  cannot  be 
helped." 


"  I   will    send   a   telegram  to   Blessing,   in  Xew  York,  to 


for  their  agent,  and  I  can  try  liiiu  with  the  photograph,  cm 
the  way  out.  If  that  succeeds,  Blessing's  failure  will  be  of 
less  consequence." 

"  If  only  they  do  not  reach  Linthicum  in  the  mean  time  ! 
I  will  prolong  the  impanelling  of  the  jury,  and  use  every 
other  liberty  of  delay  allowed  me  ;  yet  I  have  to  be  cautious. 
This  is  Spenkam's  first  important  case,  and  he  is  ambitious 
to  make  capital." 

Mr.  Spenham  was  the  prosecuting  attorney,  who  had  just 
been  elected  to  his  first  term  of  service  in  that  capacity. 
He  had  some  shrewdness  as  a  criminal  lawyer,  and  a  great 
deal  of  experience  of  the  subterranean  channels  of  party 
politics.  This  latter  acqiiirement,  in  fact,  was  the  secret  of 
his  election,  for  he  was  known  to  be  coarse,  unscrupulous, 
and  offensive.  Mr.  Pinkcrton  was  able  to  foresee  his  prob- 
able line  of  attack,  and  was  especially  anxious,  for  that 
reason,  to  introduce  testimony  which  would  shorten  the  trial. 

When  the  hour  came,  and  Joseph  found  that  Philip  was 
inevitably  absent,  the  strength  he  had  summoned  to  his 
heart  seemed  to  waver  for  an  instant.  All  his  other  friends 
were  present,  however :  Lucy  Henderson  and  Madeline  came 
with  the  Hopetons,  and  Elwood  "Withers  stood  by  his  side  so 
boldly  and  proudly  that  he  soon  recovered  his  composure. 

The  court-room  was  crowded,  not  only  by  the  idlers  of 
the  town,  but  also  many  neighbors  from  the  country.  They 
were  grave  and  silent,  and  Joseph's  appearance  in  the  place 
allotted  to  the  accused  seemed  to  impress  them  painfully. 
The  preliminaries  occupied  some  time,  and  it  was  nearly 
noon  before  the  first  witness  was  called. 

This  was  the  physician.     He  stated,  in  a  clear,  business- 


306  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FKIKMX 

like  manner,  the  condition  in  which  he  found  Julia,  his 
discovery  of  the  poison,  and  the  unusual  character  of  its 
operation,  adding  his  opinion  that  the  latter  was  owing  to  a 
long-continued  nervous  tension,  culminating  in  hysterical 
excitement.  Mr.  Spenham  questioned  him  very  closely  as 
to  Joseph's  demeanor,  and  his  expressions  before  and  after 
the  death.  The  point  of  attack  which  he  selected  was 
Julia's  exclamation :  "  Joseph,  I  \vill  try  to  be  different,  but 
I  must  live  for  that !  " 

"  These  words,"  he  said,  "  indicate  a  previous  threat  on 
the  part  of  the  accused.  His  helpless  victim — 

Mr.  Pinkerton  protested  against  the  epithet.  But  his 
antagonist  found  numberless  ways  of  seeming  to  take  Jo- 
seph's guilt  for  granted,  and  thus  gradually  to  mould  the 
pliant  minds  of  a  not  very  intelligent  jury.  The  physician 
was  subjected  to  a  rigid  cross-examination,  in  the  course  of 
which  he  was  led  to  state  that  he,  himself,  had  first  advised 
that  the  fact  of  the  poisoning  should  not  be  mentioned  until 
after  the  funeral.  The  onus  of  the  secrecy  was  thus  re- 
moved from  Joseph,  and  this  was  a  point  gained. 

The  next  witness  was  the  servant- woman,  who  had  been 
present  in  the  hall  when.  Julia  fell  upon  the  landing  of  the 
staircase.  She  had  heard  the  words,  "  Go  away  !  you  have 
killed  me  !  "  spoken  in  a  shrill,  excited  voice.  She  had  al- 
ready guessed  that  something  was  wrong  between  the  two. 
Mr.  Asten  came  home  looking  quite  wild  and  strange ;  he 
didn't  seem  to  speak  in  his  usual  voice  ;  he  walked  about  in 
a  restless  way,  and  then  went  into  the  garden.  Miss  Lucy 
followed  him,  and  then  Mrs.  Asten ;  but  in  a  little  while  she 
came  back,  with  her  dress  torn  and  her  arms  scratched ;  she, 
the  witness,  noticed  this  as  Mrs.  Asten  passed  throiigh  the 
hall,  tottering  as  she  went  and  with,  her  fists  shut  tight. 


JOSEPH    ASD    HIS    FFvIEXD.  307 

Then  Mr.  Asten  went  up  stairs  to  her  bedroom ;  heard  them 
speaking,  but  not  the  words  ;  said  to  Sally,  who  was  in  the 
kitchen,  "It's  a  real  till'  raid  no  mistake,"  and  Sally  re- 
marked, "  They're  not  used  to  each  other  yet,  as  they  will 
be  in  a  year  or  two." 

The  witness  was  with  difficulty  kept  to  a  direct  narrative. 
She  had  told  the  tale  so  often  that  every  particular  had  its 
fixed  phrases  of  description,  and  all  the  questioning  on  both 
sides  called  forth  only  repetitions.  Joseph  listened  with  a 
calm,  patient  air ;  nothing  had  yet  occurred  for  which  he 
was  not  prepared.  The  spectators,  however,  began  to  be 
deeply  interested,  and  a  sharp  observer  might  have  noticed 
that  they  were  already  taking  sides. 

Mr.  Pinkerton  soon  detected  that,  although  the  woman's 
statements  told  against  Joseph,  she  possessed  no  friendly 
feeling  for  Julia.  He  endeavored  to  make  the  most  of  this : 

O  ' 

but  it  was  not  much. 

When  Lucy  Henderson's  name  was  called,  there  was  a 
stir  of  curiosity  in  the  audience.  They  knew  that  the  con- 
ference in  the  garden,  from  which  Julia  had  returned  in 
such  an  excited  condition,  must  now  be  described.  Mr. 
Spenham  pricked  up  his  red  ears,  ran  his  hand  through  his 
stubby  hair,  and  prepared  himself  for  battle;  while  Mr. 
Pinkerton,  already  in  possession  of  all  the  facts,  felt  con- 
cerned only  regarding  the  manner  in  which  Lucy  might  give 
them.  This  was  a  case  where  so  much  depended  on  the  im- 
pression produced  by  the  individual ! 

By  the  time  Lucy  was  sworn  she  appeared  to  be  entirely  com- 
posed ;  her  face  was  slightly  pale,  but  calm,  and  her  voice 
steady.  Mrs.  Hopeton  and  Madeline  Held  sat  near  her,  and 
Elwood  Withers,  leaning  against  a  high  railing,  was  nearly 
opposite. 


SOS  JOSEPH    AND    ITI3    FKIEND. 

There  was  profound  silence  as  she  began,  and  the  interest 
increased  as  she  approached  the  time  of  Joseph's  return. 
She  described  his  appearance,  repeated  the  words  she  had 
heard,  reproduced  the  scene  in  her  own  chamber,  and  so 
came,  step  by  step,  to  the  interview  in  the  garden.  The 
trying  nature  of  her  task  now  became  evident.  She  spoke 
slowly,  and  with  longer  pauses ;  but  whichever  way  she 
turned  in  her  thought,  the  inexorable  necessity  of  the  whole 
truth  stared  her  in  the  face. 

"  Must  I  repeat  everything  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  am  not 
sure  of  recollecting  the  words  precisely  as  they  were 
spoken." 

"  You  can  certainly  give  the  substance,"  said  Mr.  Spen- 
ham. "  And  be  careful  that  you  omit  nothing  :  you  are  on 
your  oath,  and  you  ought  to  know  what  that  means." 

His  words  were  loud  and  harsh.  Lucy  looked  at  the  im- 
passive face  of  the  judge,  at  Elwood's  earnest  features,  at 
the  attentive  jurymen,  and  went  on. 

When  she  came  to  Joseph's  expression  of  the  love  that 
might  have  been  possible,  she  gave  also  his  words :  "  Had 
there  been,  I  should  have  darkened  the  life  of  a  friend." 

"  Ha  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Spenham,  "  we  are  coming  upon 
the  motive  of  the  murder." 

Again  Mr.  Pinkerton  protested,  and  was  sustained  by  the 
court. 

"  Tell  the  jury,"  said  Mr.  Spenham,  "  whether  there  had 
been  any  interchange  of  such  expressions  between  you  and 
the  accused  previous  to  his  marriage  !  " 

This  question  was  objected  to,  but  the  objection  was 
overruled. 

"  None  whatever  !  "  was  the  answer. 

Julia's  sudden  appearance,  the  accusation  she  made,  and 


309 

the  manner  in  which  Joseph  met  it,  seemed  to  1  urn  iho 
current  of  sympathy  the  other  way.  Lucy's  recollection  of 
this  scene  was  very  clo;ir  and  complete  :  had  she  wished  it, 
she  could  not  have  forgotten  a  \vord  or  a  look,  in  spile  of 
Mr.  Spenham's  angry  objections,  she  was  allowed  to  go  on 
and  relate  the  conversation  between  Joseph  and  herself 
after  Julia's  return  to  the  house.  Mr.  rinkerton.  made  the 
bent  use  of  this  portion  of  the  evidence,  and  it  seemed  that 
his  side  was  strengthened,  in  spite  of  all  unfavorable  appear- 
ances. 

"  Tliis  is  not  all  !  "  exclaimed  the  prosecuting  attorney. 
"  A  married  man  does  not  make  a  declaration  of  love — " 

"  Of  a  past  possible  love,"  Mr.  rinkcrton  interrupted. 

"  A  yery  fine  hair-splitting  indeed  !  A  'possible  '  love 
and  a  '  possible  '  return,  followed  by  a  '  possible '  murder 
and  a  '  possible '  remarriage  !  Our  duty  is  to  remove  possi- 
bilities and  establish  facts.  The  question,  is,  Was  there  no 
previous  affection  between  the  witness  and  the  accused  ? 
This  is  necessary  to  prove  a  motive.  I  ask,  then,  the 
woman — I  beg  pardon,  the  lady — what  were  her  sentiments 
towards  the  husband  of  the  poisoned  before  his  marriage,  at 
the  time  of  the  conversation  in  the  garden,  and  now  ?  " 

Lucy  started,  and  could  not  answer.  Mr.  Pinkerton 
came  to  her  aid.  He  protested  strongly  against  such  a 
question,  though  he  felt  that  there  was  eqiial  danger  in 
answering  it  or  leaving  it  unanswered.  A  portion  of  the 
spectators,  sympathizing  with  Lucy,  felt  indignant  at  Mr. 
Spenham's  demand ;  another  portion,  hungry  for  the  most 
private  and  intimate  knowledge  of  all  the  parties  concerned, 
eagerly  hoped  that  it  would  be  acceded  to. 

Lucy  half  turned,  so  that  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Joseph. 
He  was  calm,  but  his  eyes  expressed  a  sympathetic  trouble. 


310  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

Then  she  felt  her  gaze  drawn  to  Elwood,  who  had  become  a 
shade  paler,  and  who  met  her  eyes  with  a  deep,  inscrutable 
expression.  Was  he  thinking  of  his  recent  words  to  her, — 
"  If  need  comes  to  publish  what  I  said  to  you,  don't  keep 
back  a  single  word  !  "  She  felt  stire  of  it,  for  all  that  he 
said  was  in  her  mind.  Her  decision  was  made  :  for  truth's 
sake,  and  under  the  eye  of  God,  she  would  speak.  Having 
so  resolved,  she  shut  her  mind  to  all  else,  for  she  needed 
the  greatest  strength  of  either  woman  or  man. 

The  judge  had  decided  that  she  was  not  obliged  to  answer 
the  question.  There  was  a  murmur,  here  and  there,  among 
the  spectators. 

"  Then  I  will  use  my  freedom  of  choice,"  said  Lucy,  in  a 
firm  voice,  "  and  answer  it." 

She  kept  her  eyes  on  Elwood  as  she  spoke,  and  com- 
pelled him  to  face  her.  She  seemed  to  forget  judge,  jury, 
and  the  curious  public,  and  to  speak  only  to  his  ear. 

"  I  am  here  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  God  helping  me," 
she  said.  "  I  do  not  know  how  what  I  am  required  to  say 
can  touch  the  question  of  Joseph  Asten's  guilt  or  innocence ; 
but  I  cannot  pause  to  consider  that.  It  is  not  easy  for  a 
woman  to  lay  bare  her  secret  heart  to  the  world ;  I  would 
like  to  think  that  every  man  who  hears  me  has  a  wife,  a 
sister,  or  a  beloved  girl  of  his  choice,  and  that  he  will  try  to 
understand  my  heart  through  his  knowledge  of  hers.  I  did 
cherish  a  tenderness  which  might  have  been  love— I  cannot 
tell — for  Joseph  Asten  before  his  betrothal.  I  admit  that 
iiis  marriage  was  a  grief  to  me  at  the  time,  for,  while  I  had 
not  suffered  myself  to  feel  any  hope,  I  could  not  keep  the 
feeling  of  disappointment  out  of  my  heart.  It  was  both  my 
blame  and  shame  :  I  wrestled  with  it,  and  with  God's  help  I 
overcame  it." 


311 

There  was  a  simple  pathos  in  Lucy's  voice,  winch  pierced 
directly  to  the  hearts  of  her  hearers.  She  stood  before  them 
as  pure  as  Godiva  in  her  helpful  nakedness.  She  saw  on 
Elwood's  clieek  the  blu>h  which  did  not  visit  hers,  and  tin 
sparkle  of  an  unconscious  tear.  Joseph  had  hidden  his  face 
in  his  hands  for  a  moment,  but  now  lo"k<-d  up  with  a  sad- 
ness which  no  man  there  could  misinterpret. 

Lucy  had  paused,  as  if  waiting  to  be  <jU(.-stioned,  but  the 
effect  of  her  words  had  been  so  powerful  and  unexpected 
that  Mr.  Spenhain  was  not  ipiite  ready.  She  went  on:  — 

"  When  I  say  that  I  overcame  it,  I  think  I  have  answered 
everything.  I  went  to  him  in  the  garden  against  my  own 
wish,  because  his  wife  begged  me  with  tears  and  sobs  to  in- 
tercede for  her :  I  could  not  guess  that  he  had  ever  thought 
of  me  otherwise  than  as  a  friend.  I  attributed  his  expres- 
sions to  his  disappointment  in  marriage,  and  pardoned  him 
•when  he  asked  me  to  forget  them — 

"  O,  no  doubt  !  "  Mr.  Spenhain  interrupted,  looking  at  the 
jury  ;  "  after  all  we  have  heard,  they  could  not  have  been 
very  disagreeable  ! " 

Elwood  made  a  rapid  step  forward ;  then,  recollecting 
himself,  resumed  his  position  against  the  railing.  Very  few 
persons  noticed  the  movement. 

"  They  were  very  unwelcome,"  Lucy  replied  :  "  under  any 
other  circumstances,  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  forgive 
them." 

"  And  this  former — '  tenderness,'  I  think  you  called  it," 
Mr.  Spenliam  persisted,  "  — do  you  mean  to  say  that  you 
feel  nothing  of  it  at  present  ?  " 

There  was  a  murmur  of  indignation  all  over  the  room. 
If  there  is  anything  utterly  incomprehensible  to  a  vulgar 
nature,  it  is  the  natural  delicacy  of  feeling  towards  women, 


312  JOSEPH  AXD  ms  FKIEXD. 

which  is  rarely  wanting  even  to  the  roughest  and  most  igno- 
rant men.  The  prosecution  had  damaged  itself,  and  now 
the  popular  sympathy  was  wholly  and  strongly  with  Liicy. 

"  I  have  already  answered  that  qiicstion,"  she  said.  "  For 
the  holy  sake  of  truth,  and  of  my  own  free-will,  I  have 
opened  my  heart.  I  did  it,  believing  that  a  woman's  first 
affection  is  pure,  and  would  be  respected ;  I  did  it,  hoping 
that  it  might  serve  the  cause  of  an  innocent  man  ;  but  now, 
since  it  has  brought  upon  me  doubt  and  insult,  I  shall  avail 
myself  of  the  liberty  granted  to  me  by  the  judge,  and  speak 
no  word  more  !  " 

The  spectators  broke  into  applause,  which  the  judge  did 
not  immediately  check.  Lucy's  strength  suddenly  left  her ; 
she  dropped  into  her  seat  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  have  no  further  question  to  ask  the  witness,"  said 
Mr.  Pinkerton. 

Mr.  Speiiham  inwardly  cursed  himself  for  his  blunder, — 
not  for  his  vulgarity,  for  of  that  he  was  sublimely  uncon- 
scious,— and  was  only  too  ready  to  be  relieved  from  Lucy's 
presence. 

She  rose  to  leave  the  court,  Mrs.  Hopeton  accompanying 
her ;  but  Elwood  Withers  was  already  at  her  side,  and  she 
leaned  upon  his  arm  as  they  passed  through  the  crowd.  The 
people  fell  back  to  make  a  way,  and  not  a  few  whispered 
some  honest  word  of  encouragement.  Elwood  breathed 
heavily,  and  the  veins  on  his  forehead  were  swollen. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  until  they  reached  the  hotel. 
Then  Lucy,  taking  Elwood's  hand,  said  :  "  Thank  you,  true, 
dear  friend  !  I  can  say  no  more  now.  Go  back,  for  Joseph's 
sake,  and  when  the  clay  is  over  come  here  and  tell  me,  if 
you  can,  that  I  have  not  injured  him  in  trying  to  help  him." 

When  Elwood  returned  to  the  court-room,  Rachel  Miller 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  313 

was  on  the  witness  stand.  Her  testimony  confirmed  the 
interpretation  of  Julia's  character  which  had  been  suggested 
ky  Lucy  Henderson's.  The  sweet,  amiable,  suffering  wife 
began  to  recede  into  the  background,  and  the  cold,  false, 
selfish  wife  to  take  her  place. 

All  Mr.  Spenham's  cross-examination  failed  to  give  the 
prosecution  any  support  until  he  asked  the  question  : — 

"  Have  you  discovered  nothing  whatever,  since  your  re- 
turn to  the  house,  which  will  throw  any  light  upon  Mrs. 
Asten's  death  ?  " 

Mr.  Pinkerton,  Elwood,  and  Madeline  all  felt  that  the 
critical  moment  had  come.  Philip's  absence  threatened  to 
be  a  serious  misfortune. 

"  Yes,"  Rachel  Miller  answered. 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  the  prosecuting  attorney,  rubbing  his 
hair  ;  "  what  was  it  ?  " 

"  The  paper  in  which  the  arsenic  was  put  up." 

"  Will  you  produce  that  paper  ?  "  he  eagerly  asked. 

"  T  cannot  now,"  said  Rachel ;  "  I  gave  it  to  Mr.  Philip 
Held,  so  that  he  might  find  out  something  more." 

Joseph  listened  with  a  keen,  undisguised  interest.  After 
the  first  feeling  of  surprise  that  such  an  important  event 
had  been  kept  from  his  knowledge,  his  confidence  in  Philip's 
judgment  reassured  him. 

"  Has  Mr.  Philip  Held  destroyed  that  paper  ?  "  Mr.  Spen- 
ham  asked. 

"  He  retains  it,  and  will  produce  it  before  this  court  to- 
morrow," Mr.  Pinkerton  replied. 

"  Was  there  any  mark,  or  label,  upon  it,  which  indicated 
the  place  where  the  poison  had  been  procured  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Rachel  Miller. 

"  State  what  it  was." 
14 


314  JOSEPH   AND    ms   FRIKND. 

"  Ziba  Linthicum's  drug-store,  Xo.  77  Main  Street,  Mag- 
nolia," she  replied,  as  if  the  label  were  before  her  eyes. 

"  Let  Ziba  Liiithicum  be  summoned  at  once  !  "  Mr.  Spen- 
ham  cried. 

Mr.  Pinkerton,  however,  arose  and  stated  that  the  apo- 
thecary's testimony  required  that  of  another  person  who  was 
present  when  the  poison  was  purchased.  This  other  person 
had  been  absent  in  a  distant  part  of  the  country,  but  had 
been  summoned,  and  would  arrive,  in  company  with  Mr. 
Philip  Held,  on  the  following  morning.  He  begged  that 
Mr.  Linthicum's  evidence  might  be  postponed  until  then, 
when  he  believed  that  the  mystery  attending  the  poisoning 
would  be  wholly  explained. 

Mr.  Spenham  violently  objected,  but  he  again  made  the 
mistake  of  speaking  for  nearly  half  an  hour  on  the  subject, 
— an  indiscretion  into  which  he  was  led  by  his  confirmed 
political  habits.  By  the  time  the  question  was  decided,  and 
in  favor  of  the  defence,  the  afternoon  was  well  advanced, 
and  the  court  adjourned  until  the  next  day. 


JOSEPH    AND    IIIS    FKIEND.  315 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


ELWOOD  accompanied  Joseph  TO  the  prison  where  lie  was 
obliged  to  spend  the  night,  and  was  allowed  to  remain  with 
him  until  Mr.  Pinkerton  (who  was  endeavoring  to  reach 
Philip  by  telegraph)  should  arrive. 

Owing  to  Rachel  Miller's  forethought,  the  bare  room  was 
sufficiently  furnished.  There  was  a  clean  bed,  a  chair  or 
two,  and  a  table,  upon  which  stood  a  basket  of  provisions. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  eat,"  said  Joseph,  "  as  a  matter  of 
duty.  If  you  will  sit  down  and  join  me,  Elwood,  I  will 
try." 

"  If  I  could  have  that  fellow  Spenham  by  the  throat  for 
a  minute,"  Elwood  growled,  "  it  would  give  me  a  good  appe- 
tite. But  I  will  take  my  share,  as  it  is  :  I  never  can  think 
rightly  when  I'm  hungry.  Why,  there  is  enough  for  a  pic- 
nic !  sandwiches,  cold  chicken,  pickles,  cakes,  cheese,  and 
two  bottles  of  coffee,  as  I  live  !  Just  think  that  we're  in  a 
hotel,  Joseph  !  It's  all  in  one's  notion,  leastways  for  a  sin- 
gle night ;  for  you  can  go  where  you  like  to-morrow  !  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Joseph,  as  he  took  his  seat.  Elwood 
set  the  provisions  before  him,  but  he  did  not  touch  them. 
After  a  moment  of  hesitation  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and 
laid  it  on  Elwood 's  shoulder. 

"  Now,  old  boy  !  "  Elwood  cried  :  "  I  know  it.  What 
yon  mean  is  unnecessary,  and  I  won't  have  it  1 " 

"  Let  me  speak  !  " 


316  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

"  I  don't  sec  why  I  should,  Joseph.  It's  no  more  than  I 
guessed.  She  didn't  love  me  :  yon  were  tolerably  near  to- 
gether once,  and  if  yon  should  now  come  nearer — 

But  he  could  not  finish  the  sentence ;  the  words  stuck  in 
his  throat. 

"  Great  Heaven  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed,  starting  to  his  feet ; 
"  what  are  you  thinking  of?  Don't  you  see  that  Lucy  Hen- 
derson and  I  are  parted  forever  by  what  has  happened  to-day  ? 
Didn't  you  hear  her  say  that  she  overcame  the  tenderness 
which  might  have  become  love,  as  I  overcame  mine  for  her  ? 
Neither  of  us  can  recall  that  first  feeling,  any  more  than  we 
can  set  our  lives  again  in  the  past.  I  shall  worship  her  as 
one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  souls  that  breathe;  but  love 
her  ?  make  her  my  wife  ?  It  could  never,  never  be  !  No, 
Elwood  !  I  was  wondering  whether  you  could  pardon  me 
the  rashness  which  has  exposed  her  to  to-day's  trial." 

Elwood  began  to  laugh  strangely.  "  You  are  foolish,  Jo- 
seph," he  said.  "  Pshaw  !  I  can't  hold  my  knife.  These 
sudden  downs  and  then  ups  are  too  much  for  a  fellow  ! 
Pardon  you  ?  Yes,  on  one  condition — that  you  empty 
your  plate  before  you  speak  another  word  to  me  !  " 

They  were  both  cheerful  after  this,  and  the  narrow  little 
room  seemed  freer  and  brighter  to  their  eyes.  It  was  late 
before  Mr.  Pinkerton  arrived  :  he  had  waited  in  vain  for  an 
answer  from  Philip.  Elwood's  presence  was  a  relief  to  him, 
for  he  did  not  wish  to  excite  Joseph  by  a  statement  of  what 
he  expected  to  prove  unless  the  two  witnesses  had  been  really 
secured.  He  adroitly  managed,  however,  to  say  very  little 
while  seeming  to  say  a  great  deal,  and  Joseph  was  then  left 
to  such  rest  as  his  busy  memory  might  allow  him. 

Next  morning  there  was  an  even  greater  crowd  in  the 
court-room.  All  Joseph's  friends  were  there,  with  the  ex- 


ception  of  Lucy  Henderson,  who,  bv  .Mr.  I'inkerum's  ad\  u-e 
remained  at  the  hotel.  1'liiliji  had  not  arrived,  but  had  scut 
a  message  saying  that  all  \vus  well,  and  he  would  come  in  the 
morning  train. 

IVIr.  Spenham,  the-  evening  before,  had  ascertained  the 
nature  of  Mr.  Linthicum's  evidence.  The  apothecary,  how- 
ever, was  only  able  to  inform  him  of  Philip's  desire  to  dis- 
cover the  travelling  agent,  without  knowing  his  purpose.  In 
the  name  recorded  as  that  of  the  purchaser  of  the  poison  Mr. 
Speiiham  saw  a  weapon  which  would  enable  him  to  repay  Lucy 
for  his  discomfiture,  and  to  indicate,  if  not  prove,  a  com- 
plicity of  crime,  in  which  Philip  Held  also,  he  suspected, 
might  be  concerned. 

The  court  opened  at  nine  o'clock,  and  Philip  could  not  be 
on  hand  before  ten.  Mr.  Pinkerton  endeavored  to  procure 
the  examination  of  Dennis,  and  another  subordinate  witness, 
before  the  apothecary;  but  he  only  succeeded  in  gaining 
fifteen  minutes'  time  by  the  discussion.  Mr.  Ziba  Linthicum 
was  then  called  and  sworn.  He  carried  a  volume  under  his 
arm. 

As  Philip  possessed  the  label,  Mr.  Linthicum  could  only 
testify  to  the  fact  that  a  veiled  lady  had  purchased  so  many 
grains  of  arsenic  of  him  on  a  certain  day ;  that  he  kept  a  re- 
cord of  all  sales  of  dangerous  drugs  ;  and  that  the  lady's  name 
was  recorded  in  the  book  which  he  had  brought  with  him. 
He  then  read  the  entry : — 

"  Miss  Henderson,     Arsenic." 

Although  Mr.  Pinkerton  had  whispered  to  Joseph,  "  Do 
not  be  startled  when  he  reads  the  name!"  it  was  all  the 
latter  could  do  to  suppress  an  exclamation.  There  was  a 
murmur  and  movement  through  the  whole  court. 

"  We  have  now  both  the  motive  and  the  co-agent  of  tho 


318  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIKXD. 

crime,"  said  Mr.  Spenham,  rising  triumphantly.  "After  the 
evidence  which  was  elicited  yesterday,  it  will  not  be  difficult 
to  connect  the  two.  If  the  ca.se  deepens  in  enormity  as  it 
advances,  we  may  be  shocked,  but  we  have  no  reason  to 
be  surprised.  The  growth  of  free-love  sentiments,  among 
those  who  tear  themselves  loose  from  the  guidance  of  religious 
influences,  naturally  leads  to  crime  ;  and  the  extent  to  which 
this  evil  has  been  secretly  developed  is  not  suspected  by  the 
public.  Testimony  can.  be  adduced  to  show  that  the  ac- 
cused, Joseph  Asten,  has  openly  expressed  his  infidelity  ;  that 
he  repelled  with  threats  and  defiance  a  worthy  minister  of 
the  Gospel,  whom  his  own  pious  murdered  wife  had  commis- 
sioned to  lead  him  into  the  true  path.  The  very  expression 
which  the  woman  Lxicy  Henderson  testified  to  his  having 
used  in  the  garden, —  '  I  am  sick  of  masks,'  — what  does  it 
mean  ?  What  but  unrestrained  freedom  of  the  passions, — the 
very  foundation  upon  which  the  free-lovers  build  up  their 
pernicious  theories  ?  The  accused  cannot  complain  if  the 
law  lifts  the  mask  from  his  countenance,  and  shows  his  nature 
in  all  its  hideous  deformity.  But  another  mask,  also,  must 
be  raised :  I  demand  the  arrest  of  the  woman  Lucy  Hender- 
son !  " 

Mr.  Pinkerton  sprang  to  his  feet.  In  a  measured,  solemn 
voice,  which  contrasted  strongly  with  the  loud,  sharp  tones 
of  the  prosecuting  attorney,  he  stated  that  Mr.  Linthicum's 
evidence  was  already  known  to  him ;  that  it  required  an 
explanation  which  would  now  be  given  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  which  would  completely  exonerate  Miss  Henderson  from 
the  suspicion  of  having  purchased  the  poison,  or  even  hav- 
ing any  knowledge  of  its  purchase.  He  demanded  that  no 
conclusion  should  be  drawn  from  evidence  which  would  mis- 
lead the  minds  of  the  jury :  he  charged  the  prosecuting 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  319 

attorney  with  most  unjustly  assailing  the  characters  of  both 
Joseph  Asteii  and  Lucy  Henderson,  and  invoked,  in  the 
name  of  impartial  justice,  the  protection  of  the  court. 

He  spoke  both  eloijuently  and  earnestly  ;  but  the  specta- 
tors noticed  that  he  looked  at  his  watch  from  minute  to 
minute.  Mr.  Spenham  interrupted  him,  but  he  continued 
to  repeat  his  statements,  until  there  came  a  sudden  move- 
ment in  the  crowd,  near  the  outer  door  of  the  hall.  Then 
he  sat  down. 

Philip  led  the  way,  pressing  the  crowd  to  right  and  left  in 
his  eagerness.  He  was  followed  by  a  tall  young  man,  witli 
a  dark  moustache  and  an  abundance  of  jewelry,  while  Mr. 
Benjamin  Blessing,  flushed  and  perspiring,  brought  up  the 
rear.  The  spectators  were  almost  breathless  in.  their  hushed, 
excited  interest. 

Philip  seized  Joseph's  hand,  and,  bending  nearer,  whis- 
pered, "  You  are  free !  "  His  eyes  sparkled  and  his  face 
glowed. 

Room  was  made  for  the  three  witnesses,  and  after  a  brief 
whispered  consultation  between  Philip  and  Mr.  Pinkerton, 
Elwood  was  despatched  to  bring  Lucy  Henderson  to  the 
court. 

"  May  it  please  the  Court,"  said  Mr.  Pinkerton,  "  I  am 
now  able  to  fulfil  that  promise  which  I  this  moment  made. 
The  evidence  which  was  necessary  to  set  forth  the  manner  of 
Mrs.  Asten's  death,  and  which  will  release  the  court  fronr 
any  further  consideration  of  the  present  case,  is  in  my  hands. 
I  therefore  ask  leave  to  introduce  this  evidence  without  any 
further  delay." 

After  a  little  discussion  the  permission  was  granted,  and 
Philip  Held  was  placed  upon  the  stand. 

He  first  described  Joseph's  genuine  sorrow  at  his  wife's 


320  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

death,  and  his  self-accusation  of  having  hastened  it  by  his 
harsh  words  to  her  in  the  morning.  He  related  the  inter- 
view at  which  Joseph,  on  learning  of  the  reports  concerning 
him,  had  immediately  decided  to  ask  for  a  legal  investiga- 
tion, and  in  a  simple,  straightforward  way,  narrated  all  that 
had  been  done  up  to  the  time  of  consulting  Ziba  Linthicum's 
poison  record. 

"As  I  knew  it  to  be  quite  impossible  that  Miss  Lucy 
Henderson  could  have  been  the  purchaser,"  he  began  — 

Mr.  Spenham  instantly  objected,  and  the  expression  was 
ruled  out  by  the  Court. 

"  Then,"  Philip  resumed,  "  I  determined  to  ascertain  who 
had  purchased  the  arsenic.  Mr.  Linthicum's  description 
of  the  lady  was  too  vague  to  be  recognized.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  identify  the  travelling  agent  who  was  present ;  for 
this  purpose  I  went  to  the  city,  ascertained  the  names  and 
addresses  of  all  the  travelling  agents  of  all  the  wholesale  drug 
firms,  and  after  much  time  and  correspondence  discovered 
the  man, — Mr.  Case,  who  is  here  present.  He  was  in  Per- 
sepolis,  Iowa,  when  the  summons  reached  him,  and  would 
have  been  here  yesterday  but  for  an  accident  on  the  Erie 
Railway. 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  had  received  the  small  fragment  of 
another  label,  and  by  the  clew  which  the  few  letters  gave  me 
I  finally  identified  the  place  as  the  drug-store  of  Wallis  and 
Erkers,  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and  Persimmon  Streets. 
There  was  nothing  left  by  which  the  nature  of  the  drug 
could  be  ascertained,  and  therefore  this  movement  led  to 
nothing  which  could  be  offered  as  evidence  in  this  court, — 
that  is,  by  the  druggists  themselves,  and  they  have  not  been 
summoned.  It  happened,  however,  by  a  coincidence  which 
only  came  to  light  this  morning,  that —  " 


321 

Here  Philip  was  again  interrupted.  His  further  testi- 
mony was  of  less  consequence.  Ho  was  sharply  cross-ex- 
amined by  Mr.  Spenham  as  to  his  relaiious  with  Joseph,  and 
his  object  in  devoting  so  much  time  to  procuring  evidence 
for  the  defence;  but  he  took  occasion,  in  replying,  to  express 
his  appreciation  of  Joseph's  character  so  emphatically,  tlmt 
the  prosecution  lost  rather  than  gained.  Then  the  plan  of 
attack  was  changed.  He  was  asked  whether  he  believed  in 
the  Bible,  in  future  rewards  and  punishments,  in  the  views 
of  the  so-called  free-lovers,  in  facile  divorce  and  polygamy. 
He  was  too  shrewd,  however,  to  lay  himself  open  to  the 
least  misrepresentation,  arid  the  moral  and  mental  torture 
which  our  jurisprudence  has  substituted  for  the  rack, 
thumb-screws,  and  Spanish  boots  of  the  Middle  Ages  finally 
came  to  an  end. 

Then  the  tall  young  man,  conscious  of  his  own  elegance, 
took  his  place.  He  gave  his  name  and  occupation  as 
Augustus  Fitzwilliam  Case,  commercial  traveller  for  the 
house  of  Byle  and  Glanders,  wholesale  druggists. 

"  State  whether  you  were  in  the  drug-store  of  Ziba  Lin- 
thicum,  No.  77  Main  Street,  in  this  town,  on  the  day  of  the 
entry  in  Mr.  Linthicum's  book." 

"  I  was." 

"  Did  you  notice  the  person  who  called  for  arsenic  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  What  led  you  specially  to  notice  her  ?  " 

"  It  is  my  habit,"  said  the  witness.  "  I  am  impressible  to 
beauty,  and  I  saw  at  once  that  the  lady  had  what  I  call- 
style.  I  recollect  thinking,  'More  style  than  could  be 
expected  in  these  little  places.' " 

"Keep  your  thoughts  to   yourself!"    cried   Mr.    Spen- 

hain. 

H* 


322  JOSEPH    AXD    II  IS    FRIEND. 

"  Describe  the  lady  as  correctly  as  you  can,"  said  Mr. 
Pinkerton. 

"Something  under  the  medium  size ;  a  little  thin,  but  not 
bad  lines, — what  I  should  call  jimp,  natty,  or  '  lissome,'  in 
the  Scotch  dialect.  A  well-trained  voice ;  no  uncertainty 
about  it, — altogether  about  as  keen  and  wide-awake  a 
woman  as  you'll  find  in  a  day's  travel." 

"  You  guessed  all  this  from  her  figure  ?  "  Mr.  Spenham 
asked,  with  a  sneer. 

"  ISTot  entirely.  I  saw  her  face.  I  suppose  something  in 
my  appearance  or  attitude  attracted  her  attention.  While 
Mr.  Linthicum  was  weighing  the  arsenic  she  leaned  over  the 
counter,  let  her  veil  fall  forward  slightly,  and  gave  me  a 
quick  side-look.  I  bent  a  little  at  the  same  time,  as  if  to 
examine  the  soaps,  and  saw  her  face  in  a  three-quarter  posi- 
tion, as  the  photographers  say." 

"  Can  you  remember  her  features  distinctly  ?  " 

"  Quite  so.  In  fact,  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  forget  a 
female  face.  Hers  was  just  verging  on  the  sharp,  but  still 
tolerably  handsome.  Hair  quite  dark,  and  worn  in  ringlets; 
eyebrows  clean  and  straight ;  mouth  a  little  too  thin  for  my 
fancy ;  and  eyes — well,  I  couldn't  undertake  to  say  exactly 
what  color  they  were,  for  she  seemed  to  have  the  trick — 
very  common  in  the  city — of  letting  the  lids  droop  over 
them." 

"  Were  you  able  to  judge  of  her  age  ?" 

"  Tolerably,  I  should  say.  There  is  a  certain  air  of  preser- 
vation which  enables  a  practised  eye  to  distinguish  an  old 
girl  from  a  young  one.  She  was  certainly  not  to  be  called 
young, — somewhere  between  twenty-eight  and  thirty-five." 

"  You  heard  the  name  she  gave  Mr.  Linthicum  ?  " 

"Distinctly.     Mr.  Linthicum  politely  stated  that  it  was 


JOSEPH    AXD    1II>    FKTKXP.  323 

his  custom  to  register  the  names  of  all  those  to  whom  he 
furnished  either  poisons  or  prescriptions  requiring  care  in 
being  administered,  She  said,  'You  are  vcnj  particular, 
sir;'  and,  a  moment  afterward,  ''Pardon  me,  perhaps  it  is 
necessary.' — 'What  name,  then?  '  he  asked.  I  thought  she 
hesitated  a  moment,  but  this  I  will  not  say  positively; 
whether  or  not,  the  answer  was,  '  Miss  Henderson.'  She 
went  out  of  the  store  witli  a  light,  brisk  step." 

"  You  are  sure  you  would  be  able  to  recognize  the  lady  ?  " 
Mr.  Pinkertoii  asked. 

"  Quite  sure."  And  Mr.  Augustus  Fitzwilliam  Case 
smiled  patronizingly,  as  if  the  question  were  superfluous. 

Mr.  Pinkertoii  made  a  sign  to  Lucy,  and  she  arose. 

"Look  upon  this  lady  !  "  he  said  to  the  witness. 

The  latter  made  a  slight,  graceful  inclination  of  his  head, 
AS  much  as  to  say,  "  Pardon  me,  I  am  compelled  to  stare." 
Lucy  quietly  endured  his  gaze. 

"  Consider  her  well,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  and  then  tell  the 
jury  whether  she  is  the  person." 

"  No  considerment  is  necessary.  This  lady  has  not  the 
slightest  resemblance  to  Miss  Henderson.  She  is  younger, 
taller,  and  modelled  upon  a  wholly  different  style." 

"  Will  you  now  look  at  this  photograph  ?  " 

"Ah  !  "  the  witness  exclaimed;  "you  can  yourself  judge 
of  the  correctness  of  my  memory !  Here  is  Miss  Hender- 
son herself,  and  in  three-quarter  face,  as  I  saw  her  !  " 

"That,"  said  Mr.  Pinkerton,  addressing  the  judge  and 
jury,  "  that  is  the  photograph  of  Mrs.  Julia  Asten." 

The  spectators  were  astounded,  and  Mr.  Spenham  taken 
completely  aback  by  this  revelation.  Joseph  and  Elwood 
both  felt  that  a  great  weight  had  been  lifted  from  their 
hearts.  The  testimony  established  Julia's  falsehood  at  the 


324:  JOSEPH  Ayi)  ins  FKIEXD. 


same  time,  and  there  was  such  an  instant  and  complete 
revulsion  of  opinion  that  many  persons  present  at  once  sus- 
pected her  of  a  design  to  poison.  Joseph. 

"  Before  calling  upon  Mr.  Benjamin  Blessing,  the  father 
of  the  late  Mrs.  Asten,  for  his  testimony,"  said  Mr.  Pinker- 
ton,  —  "  and  I  believe  he  will  be  the  last  witness  necessary,  — 
I  wish  to  show  that,  although  Miss  Lucy  Henderson  accom- 
panied Mrs.  Asten  to  Magnolia,  she  could  not  have  visited 
Mr.  Linthicum's  drug-store  at  the  time  indicated  ;  nor, 
indeed,  at  any  time  during  that  day.  She  made  several  calls 
upon  friends,  each  of  whom  is  now  in  attendance,  and  their 
joint  evidence  will  account  for  every  minute  of  her  stay  in 
the  place.  The  base  attempt  to  blacken  her  fair  name  im- 
peratively imposes  this  duty  upon  me." 

No  objection  was  made,  and  the  witnesses  were  briefly 
examined  in  succession.  Their  testimony  was  complete. 

"  One  mystery  still  remains  to  be  cleared  up,"  the  lawyer 
continued  ;  "  the  purpose  of  Mrs.  Asten  in  purchasing  the 
poison,  and  the  probable  explanation  of  her  death.  I  say 
'  probable,'  because  absolute  certainty  is  impossible.  But  I 
will  not  anticipate  the  evidence.  Mr.  Benjamin  Blessing, 
step  forward,  if  you  please  !  " 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FEIEXD.  325 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

MR.  BLESSING'S  TESTIMONY. 

Ox  entering  the  court-room  Mr.  Blessing  had  gone  to 
Joseph,  given  his  hand  a  long,  significant  grasp,  and  looked 
in  his  face  with  an  expression  of  triumph,  almost  of  exulta- 
tion. The  action  was  not  lost  upon  the  spectators  or  the 
jury,  and  even  Joseph  felt  that  it  was  intended  to  express 
the  strongest  faith  in  his  innocence. 

When  the  name  was  called  there  was  a  movement  in  the 
crowd,  and  a  temporary  crush  in  some  quarters,  as  the  peo- 
ple thrust  forward  their  heads  to  see  and  listen.  Mr.  Bless* 
ing,  bland,  dignified,  serene,  feeling  that  he  was  the  central 
point  of  interest,  waited  until  quiet  had  been  restored, 
slightly  turning  his  head  to  either  side,  as  if  to  summon 
special  attention  to  what  he  should  say. 

After  being  sworn,  and  stating  his  name,  he  thus  described 
his  occupation : — 

"  I  hold  a  position  under  government ;  nominally,  it  is  a 
Deputy  Inspectorship  in  the  Custom-House,  yet  it  possesses 
a  confidential — I  might  say,  if  modesty  did  not  prevent,  an 
ad  visory — character." 

"  In  other  words,  a  Ward  Politician  !  "  said  Mr.  Spen- 
ham. 

<{  I  must  ask  the  prosecuting  attorney,"  Mr.  Blessing 
blandly  suggested,  "  not  to  define  my  place  according  to  his 
own  political  experiences." 

There  was  a  general  smile  at  these  words;  and  a  very 


326  JOSEPH  AXD  ms  FRIEND. 

audible  chuckle  from  spectators  belonging  to  the  opposite 
party. 

"  You  are  the  father  of  the  late  .Mrs.  Julia  Asten  ?  " 

"  I  am — her  unhappy  father,  whom  nothing  but  the  im- 
perious commands  of  justice,  and  the  knowledge  of  her 
husband's  innocence  of  the  crime  with  which  lie  stands 
charged,  could  have  compelled  to  appear  here,  and  reveal 
the  painful  secrets  of  a  family,  which — 

Here  Mr.  Speiiham  interrupted  him. 

"  I  merely  wish  to  observe,"  Mr.  Blessing  continued,  with 
a  stately  wave  of  his  hand  towards  the  judge  and  jury,  "  that 
the  De  Belsains  and  their  descendants  may  have  been  fre- 
quently unfortunate,  but  were  never  dishonorable.  I  act  iu 
their  spirit  when.  I  hold  duty  to  the  innocent  living  higher 
than  consideration  for  the  unfortunate  dead." 

Here  he  drew  forth  a  handkerchief,  and  held  it  for  a 
moment  to  his  eyes. 

"  Did  you  know  of  any  domestic  discords  between  your 
daughter  and  her  husband  ?  " 

"  I  foresaw  that  such  might  be,  and  took  occasion  to  warn 
my  daughter,  on  her  wedding-day,  not  to  be  too  sure  of  her 
influence.  There  was  too  much  disparity  of  age,  character, 
and  experience.  It  could  not  be  called  crabbed  age  and 
rosy  youth,  but  there  was  difference  enough  to  justify  Shake- 
speare's doubts.  I  am  aware  that  the  court  requires  ocular 
— or  auricular — evidence.  The  only  such  I  have  to  offer  is 
my  son-in-law's  own  account  of  the  discord  which  preceded 
my  daughter's  death." 

"  Did  this  discord  sufficiently  explain  to  you  the  cause 
and  manner  of  her  death  ?  " 

"  My  daughter's  nature — I  do  not  mean  to  digress,  but 
am  accustomed  to  state  niy  views  clearly — my  daughter's 


nature  was  impulsive.  Slie  inherited  mv  own  intellect,  but 
modified  by  the  peculiar  character  of  tin-  feminine  ncrvuus 
system.  Hence  >lie  miu'ht  succumb  in  a  depression  which  / 
should  resist.  She  appeared  (.<»  }><•  .-,mv  uf  her  control  over 
my  son-in-law's  nature,  and  of  success  in  an  enterprise  iu 
which — E  regret  to  say  —  my  son-in-law  lost  confidence.  I 
assumed,  at  the  time,  that  her  usually  capable  mind  was 
unbalanced  by  the  double  disappointment,  and  that  she  had 
rushed,  unaneled,  to  her  last  account.  This,  I  say,  was  the 
conclusion  forced  upon  me  ;  yet  1  cannot  admit  that  it  was 
satisfactory.  It  seemed  to  disparage  my  daughter's  intellec- 
tual power :  it  was  not  the  act  which  I  should  have  antici- 
pated in  any  possible  emergency." 

"  Had  you  no  suspicion  that  her  husband  might  have 
been  instrumental  ?  "  Mr.  Spenhani  asked. 

"  He  ?  he  is  simply  incapable  of  that,  or  any  crime  !  " 

"  We  don't  want  assertions,"  said  Mr.  Spenham,  sternly. 

"  I  beg  pardon  of  the  court,"  remarked  Mr.  Blessing ;  "  it 
was  a  spontaneous  expression.  The  touch  of  nature  cannot 
always  be  avoided." 

"  Go  on,  sir  !  " 

"  I  need  not  describe  the  shock  and  sorrow  following  my 
daughter's  death,"  Mr.  Blessing  continued,  again  applying 
his  handkerchief.  "  In  order  to  dissipate  it,  I  obtained  a 
leave  of  absence  from  my  post, — the  exigencies  of  the  gov- 
ernment fortunately  admitting  of  it, — and  made  a  journey 
to  the  Oil  Regions,  in  the  interest  of  myself  and  my  son-in- 
law.  While  there  I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Philip  Held, 
the  contents  of  which — 

"Will  you  produce  the  letter?"  Mr.  Spenham  ex- 
claimed. 

"  It  can  be  produced,  if  necessary.     I  will  state  nothing 


32S  JOSEPH    AND    JII5    FRIEND. 

further,  since  I  perceive  that  this  would  not  be  admissible 
evidence.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  I  returned  to  the  city 
without  delay,  in  order  to  meet  Mr.  Philip  Held.  The  re- 
quirements of  justice  were  more  potent  with  me  than  the 
suggestions  of  personal  interest.  Mr.  Held  had  already,  as 
you  will  have  noticed  from  his  testimony,  identified  the 
fragment  of  paper  as  having  emanated  from  the  drug-store 
of  "VVallis  and  Erkers,  corner  of  Fifth  and  Persimmon 
Streets.  I  accompanied  him  to  that  drug-store,  heai-d  the 
statements  of  the  proprietors,  in  answer  to  Mr.  Hold's  ques- 
tions,— statements  which,  I  confess,  surprised  me  immeas- 
urably (but  I  could  not  reject  the  natural  dedtictions  to  be 
drawn  from  them),  and  was  compelled,  although  it  over- 
whelmed me  with  a  sense  of  unmerited  shame,  to  acknow- 
ledge that  there  was  plausibility  in  Mr.  Held's  conjectures. 
Since  they  pointed  to  my  elder  daughter,  Clementina,  now 
Mrs.  Spelter,  and  at  this  moment  tossing  upon  the  ocean- 
wave,  I  saw  that  Mr.  Held  might  possess  a  discernment  su- 
perior to  my  own.  But  for  a  lamentable  cataclysm,  he 
might  have  been  my  son-in-law,  and  I  need  not  say  that  I 
prefer  that  refinement  of  character  which  comes  of  good  blood 
to  the  possession  of  millions — 

Here  Mr.  Blessing  was  again  interrupted,  and  ordered  to 
confine  himself  to  the  simple  statement  of  the  necessary 
facts. 

"  I  acknowledge  the  justice  of  the  rebuke,"  he  said.  " But 
the  sentiment  of  the  mens  conscia  recti  will  sometimes  ob- 
trude through  the  rigid  formula  of  Themis.  In  short,  Mr. 
Philip  Held's  representations — " 

"  State  those  representations  at  once,  and  be  done  with 
them  !  "  Mr.  Spenham  cried. 

"  I  am  coming  to  them  presently.     The  Honorable  Court 


329 

understands,  I  urn  convinced,  that  a  coin-rent  narrative,  ah 
though  moderately  prolix,  is  preferable  to  a  di-j^inted  nar- 
rative, even  if  the  latter  were  terse  as  Tacitus.  .Mr.  j{,-ld"s 
representations,  I  repeat,  satisfied  me  that  an  interview  with 
mv  daughter  Clementina  was  imperative.  There  was  no 
time  to  be  lost,  for  the  passage  of  the  nuptial  pair  had  al- 
•eady  been  taken  iiL  the  VIV^  '/<.>  J'ari*.  1  started  at  once, 
sending  a  telegram  in  advance,  and  in  the  same  evening  ar- 
rived at  their  palatial  residence  in  Fifth  Avenue.  Clemen- 
tina's nature,  I  must  explain  to  the  Honorable  Court,  is  very 
different  from  that  of  her  sister, — the  reappearance,  I  sus- 
pect, of  some  lateral  strain  of  blood.  She  is  reticent,  unde- 
monstrative,— in  short,  frequently  inscrutable.  I  suspected 
that  a  direct  question  might  defeat  my  object;  therefore, 
when  I  was  alone  with  her  the  next  morning, — my  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Spelter,  being  called  to  a  meeting  of  Erie  of  which 
he  is  one  of  the  directors, — I  said  to  her  :  '  My  child,  you 
are  perfectly  blooming !  Your  complexion  was  always  ad- 
mirable, but  now  it  seems  to  me  incomparable  ! ' ' 

"  This  is  irrelevant !  "  cried  Mr.  Spenham. 

"  By  no  means  !  It  is  the  very  corpus  delicti, — the  foot 
of  Hercules, — the  milk  (powder  would  be  more  appropriate) 
in  the  cocoa-nut !  "  Clementina  smiled  in  her  serene  way,  and 
made  no  reply.  '  How  do  you  keep  it  up  now  ?  '  I  asked, 
tapping  her  cheek  ;  '  you  must  be  careful,  here  :  all  persons 
are  not  so  discreet  as  "Wallis  and  Erkers.'  She  was  as- 
tounded, stupefied,  I  might  say,  but  I  saw  that  I  had  reached 
the  core  of  truth.  '  Did  you  suppose  I  was  ignorant  of  it? ' 
I  said,  still  very  friendly  and  playfully.  '  Then  it  was  Julia 
who  told  you  ! '  she  exclaimed.  <  And  if  she  did,'  I  an- 
swered, '  what  was  the  harm  ?  I  have  no  doubt  that  Julia 
did  the  same  thing.'  '  She  was  always  foolish,'  Clementina 


330  JOSEPH   AND   HIS    FKIKXD. 

then  said  ;  '  she  envied  me  my  complexion,  and  she  watched 
me  until  she  found  out.  I  told  her  that  it  would  not  do  for 
any  except  blondes,  like  myself,  and  her  complexion  was 
neither  one  thing  nor  the  other.  And  I  couldn't  see  that  it 
improved  much,  afterwards.' " 

Mr.  Pinkerton  saw  that  the  jurymen  were  puzzled,  and 
requested  Mr.  Blessing  to  explain  the  conversation  to 
them. 

"  It  is  my  painful  duty  to  obey  ;  yet  a  father's  feelings 
may  be  pardoned  if  he  shrinks  from  presenting  the  facts  at 
once  in  their  naked — unpleasantness.  However,  since  the 
use  of  arsenic  as  a  cosmetic  is  so  general  in  our  city,  especi- 
ally among  blondes,  as  Wallis  and  Erkers  assure  me,  my 
own  family  is  not  an  isolated  case.  Julia  commenced  using 
the  drug,  so  Clementina  informed  me,  after  her  engagement 
with  Mr.  Asten,  and  only  a  short  time  before  her  marriage. 
To  what  extent  she  used  it,  after  that  event,  I  have  no 
means  of  knowing ;  but,  I  suspect,  less  frequently,  unless 
she  feared  that  the  disparity  of  age  between  her  and  her 
husband  was  becoming  more  apparent.  I  cannot  excuse  her 
duplicity  in  giving  Miss  Henderson's  name  instead  of  her 
own  at  Mr.  Linthicum's  drug  store,  since  the  result  might 
have  been  so  fearfully  fatal ;  yet  I  entreat  you  to  believe 
that  there  may  have  been  no  inimical  animus  in  the  act. 
I  attribute  her  death  entirely  to  an  over-dose  of  the  drug, 
voluntarily  taken,  but  taken  in  a  moment  of  strong  excite- 
ment." 

The  feeling  of  relief  from  suspense,  not  only  among 
Joseph's  friends,  but  throughout  the  crowded  court-room, 
was  clearly  manifested :  all  present  seemed  to  breathe  a 
lighter  and  fresher  atmosphere. 

Mr.  Blessing  wiped  his  forehead  and  his  fat  cheeks,  and 


looked  benignly  around.  '•  There  are  a  liundred  little  addi- 
tional details,"  he  said,  "which  will  substantiate  my  evi- 
dence ;  but  1  have  surely  said  sutlicient  fur  the  ends  of  jus- 
tice. The  hoa\vns  will  not  fall  because  I  have  been  forced 
to  carve  the  emblems  of  criminal  vanity  upon  the  sepulchre 
of  an  unfortunate  child, — but  the  judgment  of  an  earthly 
tribunal  may  well  be  satisfied.  J  luwever,  I  am  readv,"  lie 
added,  turning  towards  Mr.  Spenham  ;  <;  apply  all  the  en- 
gines of  technical  procedure,  and  I  shall  not  wince." 

The  manner  of  the  prosecuting  attorney  was  completely 
changed,  lie  answered  respectfully  and  courteously,  and  his 
brief  cross-examination  was  calculated  rather  to  confirm 
the  evidence  for  the  defence  than  to  invalidate  it. 

Mr.  Pinkerton  then  rose  and  stated  that  he  should  call 
no  other  witnesses.  The  fact  had  been  established  that 
Mrs.  Asten  had  been  in  the  habit  of  taking  arsenic  to  im- 
prove her  complexion ;  also  that  she  had  purchased  much 
more  than  enough  of  the  drug  to  cause  death,  at  the  store 
of  Mr.  Ziba  Linthicum,  only  a  few  days  before  her  demise, 
and  under  circumstances  which  indicated  a  desire  to  conceal 
the  purchase.  There  were  two  ways  in  which  the  manner 
of  her  death  might  be  explained ;  either  she  had  ignorantly 
taken  an  over-dose,  or,  having  mixed  the  usual  quantity  be- 
fore descending  to  the  garden  to  overhear  the  conversation 
between  Mr.  Asten  and  Lucy  Henderson,  had  forgotten  the 
fact  in  the  great  excitement  which  followed,  and  thought- 
lessly added  as  much  more  of  the  poison.  Her  last  words 
to  her  husband,  which  could  not  be  introduced  as  evidence, 
but  might  now  be  repeated,  showed  that  her  death  was  the 
result  of  accident,  and  not  of  design.  She  was  thus  ab- 
solved of  the  guilt  of  suicide,  even  as  her  husband  of  the 
charge  of  murder. 


332  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FKIEXD. 

Mr.  Spenham,  somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  those  who 
were  unacquainted  with  his  true  character,  also  stated  that 
he  should  call  110  further  witness  for  the  prosecution.  The 
testimonies  of  Mr.  Augustus  Fitzwilliam  Case  and  Mr.  Ben- 
jamin. Blessing — although  the  latter  was  unnecessarily  os- 
tentatious and  discursive — were  sufficient  to  convince  him 
that  the  prosecution  could  not  make  out  a  case.  He  had 
no  doubt  whatever  of  Mr.  Joseph  Asten's  innocence.  Lest 
the  expressions  which  he  had  been  compelled  to  use,  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty,  might  be  misunderstood,  he  wished 
to  say  that  he  had  the  highest  respect  for  the  characters  of 
Mr.  Asten  and  also  of  Miss  Lucy  Henderson.  He  believed 
the  latter  to  be  a  refined  and  virtuous  lady,  an  ornament  to 
the  community  in  which  she  resided.  His  language  to- 
wards her  had  been  professional, — by  no  means  personal. 
It  was  in  accordance  with  the  usage  of  the  most  eminent 
lights  of  the  bar;  the  ends  of  justice  required  the  most 
searching  examination,  and  the  more  a  character  was  cri- 
minated the  more  brightly  it  would  shine  forth  to  the 
world  after  the  test  had  been  successfully  endured. 
He  was  simply  the  agent  of  the  law,  and  all  respect  of  per- 
sons was  prohibited  to  him  while  in  the  exercise  of  his 
functions. 

The  judge  informed'  the  jurymen  that  he  did  not  find  it 
necessary  to  give  them  any  instructions.  If  they  were 
already  agreed  upon  their  verdict,  even  the  formality  of 
retiring  might  be  dispensed  with. 

There  was  a  minute's  whispering  back  and  forth,  among 
the  men,  and  the  foreman  then  rose  and  stated  that  they 
were  agreed. 

The  words  "  Not  Guilty  !  "  spoken  loudly  and  emphati- 
cally, were  the  signal  for  a  stormy  burst  of  applause  from 


JOSEPH    AND    JUS    FKIEXD.  333 

tlie  audience.  In  vain  the  court-crier,  aided  by  the  consta- 
bles, endeavored  to  preserve  order.  Joseph's  friends  gath- 
ered around  him  with  their  congratulations ;  while  Mr. 
Blessing,  feeling  that  some  recognition  of  the  popular  senti- 
ment was  required,  rose  and  bowed  repeatedly  to  the  crowd. 
Philip  lad  the  way  to  the  open  air,  and  the  others  followed, 
but  few  words  were  spoken  until  they  found  themselves  in 
the  large  parlor  of  the  hotel. 

Mr.  Blessing  had  exchanged  some  mysterious  whispers 
with  the  clerk,  on  arriving  ;  and  presently  two  negro  waiters 
entered  the  room,  bearing  wine,  ice,  and  other  refreshments. 
When  the  glasses  had  been  filled,  Mr.  Blessing  lifted  his 
with  an  air  which  imposed  silence  on  the  company,  and  thus 
spake :  " '  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth 
speaketh.'  There  may  be  occasions  when  silence  is  golden, 
but  to-day  we  are  content  with  the  baser  metal.  A  man  in 
whom  we  all  confide,  whom  we  all  love,  has  been  rescxied 
from  the  labyrinth  of  circximstances ;  he  comes  to  us  as  a 
new  Theseus,  saved  from  the  Minotaur  of  the  Law !  Al- 
though Mr.  Held,  with  the  assistance  of  his  fair  sister,  was 
the  Ariadne  who  found  the  clew,  it  has  been  my  happy  lot 
to  assist  in  unrolling  it ;  and  now  we  all  stand  together,  like 
our  classic  models  on  the  free  soil  of  Crete,  to  chant  a  paean 
of  deliverance.  While  I  propose  the  health  and  happiness 
and  good-fortune  of  Joseph  Asten,  I  beg  him  to  believe  that 
my  words  come  ab  imo  pectore, — from  my  inmost  heart :  if 
any  veil  of  mistrust,  engendered  by  circumstances  which  I 
•will  not  now  recall,  still  hangs  between  him  and  myself,  I 
entreat  him  to  rend  that  veil,  even  as  David  rent  his  gar- 
ments, and  believe  in  my  sincerity,  if  he  cannot  in  my  dis- 
cretion !  " 

Philip  was  the  only  one,  besides  Joseph,  who  understood 


33i  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIKXD. 

the  last  allusion.  He  caught  hold  of  Mr.  Blessing's  hand 
and  exclaimed  :  "  Spoken,  like  a  man  !  " 

Joseph  stepped  instantly  forward.  "  I  have  again  been 
unjust,"  he  said,  "  and  I  thank  you  for  making  me  feel  it. 
You  have  done  me  an  infinite  service,  sacrificing  your  own 
feelings,  bearing  no  malice  against  me  for  my  hasty  and 
unpardonable  words,  and  showing  a  confidence  in  my  charac- 
ter which — after  what  has  passed  between  us — puts  me  to 
shame.  I  am  both  penitent  and  grateful :  henceforth  I  shall 
know  you  and  esteem  you  !  " 

Mr.  Blessing  took  the  offered  hand,  held  it  a  moment,  and 
then  stammered,  while  the  tears  started  from  his  eyes : 
"  Enough  !  Bury  the  past  a  thousand  fathoms  deep  !  I  can 
still  say  :  foi  de  Belsain  !  " 

"  One  more  toast !  "  cried  Philip.  "  Happiness  and 
worldly  fortune  to  the  man  whom  misfortunes  have  bent  but 
cannot  break, — who  has  been  often  deceived,  but  who 
never  purposely  deceived  in  turn, — whose  sentiment  of 
honor  has  been  to-day  so  nobly  manifested, — Benjamin 
Blessing ! " 

While  the  happy  company  were  pouring  out  but  not  ex- 
hausting their  feelings,  Lucy  Henderson  stole  forth  upon  the 
upper  balcony  of  the  hotel.  There  was  a  secret  trouble  in 
her  heart,  which  grew  from  minute  to  minute.  She  leaned 
upon  the  railing,  and  looked  down  the  dusty  street,  passing 
in  review  the  events  of  the  two  pregnant  days,  and  striving 
to  guess  in  what  manner  they  would  affect  her  coming  life. 
She  felt  that  she  had  done  her  simple  duty  :  she  had  spoken 
no  word  which  she  was  not  ready  to  repeat ;  yet  in  her 
words  there  seemed  to  be  the  seeds  of  change. 

After  a  while  the  hostler  brought  a  light  carriage  from  the 
stable,  and  Elwood  Withers  stepped  into  the  street  below 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEND.  335 

her.  He  was  about  to  take  the  reins,  when  lie  looked  up, 
saw  her,  and  remained  standing.  She  noticed  the  intensely 
wistful  expression  of  his  face. 

''  Are  you  going,  Elwood, — and  alone  ?  "   she  asked. 

"  Yes,"   he  said  eagerly  ;   and  waited. 

"  Then  T  will  go  with  you, — that  is,  if  you  will  take  me." 
She  tried  to  speak  lightly  and  playfully. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  out  of  town,  passing  between 
the  tawny  fields  and  under  the  russet  woods.  A  sweet  west 
wind  fanned  them  with  nutty  and  spicy  odors,  and  made  a 
crisp,  cheerful  music  among  the  fallen  leaves. 

"  What  a  delicious  change ! "  said  Lucy,  "  after  that 
stifling,  dreadful  room." 

"  Ay,  Lucy — and  think  how  Joseph  will  feel  it !  And 
how  near,  by  the  chance  of  a  hair,  we  came  of  missing  the 
truth !  " 

"  Elwood  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  while  I  was  giving  my  tes- 
timony, and  I  found  your  eyes  fixed  on  me,  were  you  think- 
ing of  the  counsel  you  gave  me,  three  weeks  ago,  when  we 
met  at  the  tunnel  ?  " 

"  I  was  !  " 

"  I  knew  it,  and  I  obeyed.  Do  you  now  say  that  I  did 
right?" 

"  Not  for  that  reason,"  he  answered.  "  It  was  your  own 
heart  that  told  you  what  to  do.  I  did  not  mean  to  bend  or 
influence  you  in  any  way  :  I  have  no  right." 

"  You  have  the  right  of  a  friend,"  she  whispered. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  sometimes  take  more  upon  myself 
than  I  ought.  But  it's  hard,  in  my  case,  to  hit  a  very  fine 
line." 

"  O,  you  are  now  unjust  to  yourself,  Elwood.  You  are 
both  strong  and  generous." 


336  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FKIEXD. 

"  T  am  not  strong  !  I  am  this  minute  spoiling  my  good 
luck.  It  ivas  a  luck  from  Heaven  to  me,  Lucy,  when  you 
offered  to  ride  home  with  me,  and  it  is,  now — if  I  could  only 
swallow  the  words  that  are  rising  into  my  mouth  !  " 

She  whispered  again  :  "  Why  should  you  swallow  them  ?  " 

"  You  are  cruel !  when  you  have  forbidden  me  to  speak, 
and  I  have  promised  to  obey  !  " 

"  After  all  you  have  heard  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  All  the  more  for  what  I  have  heard." 

She  took  his  hand,  and  cried,  in  a  trembling  voice  :  "  T 
have  been  cruel,  in  remaining  blind  to  your  nature.  I  re- 
sisted what  would  have  been — what  will  be,  if  you  do  not 
turn  away — my  one  happiness  in  this  life  !  Do  not  speak — 
let  me  break  the  prohibition !  Elwood,  dear,  true,  noble 
heart, — Elwood,  I  love  you!" 

"  Lucy !  " 

And  she  lay  upon  his  bosom. 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEXD.  337 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

BEGIXXIXG    ANOTHER    LIFE. 

IT  was  hard  for  the  company  of  rejoicing  friends,  at  the 
hotel  in  Magnolia,  to  part  from  each  other.  Mr.  Blessing 
had  tact  enough  to  decline  Joseph's  invitation,  but  he  was 
sorely  tempted  by  Philip's,  in  which  Madeline  heartily 
joined.  Nevertheless,  he  only  wavered  for  a  moment;  a 
mysterious  resolution  strengthened  him,  and  taking  Philip 
to  one  side,  he  whispered: — 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  postpone,  not  relinquish,  the 
pleasure  ?  Thanks  !  A  grave  duty  beckons, — a  task,  in 
short,  without  which  the  triumph  of  to-day  would  be  dra- 
matically incomplete.  I  must  speak  in  riddles,  because  this 
is  a  case  in  which  a  whisper  might  start  the  overhanging 
avalanche ;  but  I  am  sure  you  will  trust  me." 

"  Of  course  I  will !  "     Philip  cried,  offering  his  hand. 

"  Foi  de  Bdsain  !  "  was  Mr.  Blessing's  proud  answer,  as 
he  hurried  away  to  reach  the  train  for  the  city. 

Joseph  looked  at  Pliilip,  as  the  horses  were  brought  from 
the  stable,  and  then  at  Rachel  Miller,  who,  wrapped  in  her 
great  crape  shawl,  was  quietly  waiting  for  him. 

"  We  must  not  separate  all  at  once,"  said  Philip,  stepping 
forward.  "  Miss  Miller,  will  you  invite  my  sister  and  my- 
self to  take  tea  with  you  this  evening  ?  " 

Philip  had  become  one  of  PiachePs  heroes ;  she  was  sure 
that  Mr.  Blessing's  testimony  and  Joseph's  triumphant  ac- 
quittal were  owing  to  his  exertions.     The  Asten  farm  could 
15 


338  JOSEPH  AND  ins  FKIEND. 

produce  nothing  good  enough  for  his  entertainment, — that 
was  her  only  trouble. 

"  Do  tell  me  the  time  o'  day,"  she  said  to  Joseph,  as  ho 
drove  out  of  town,  closely  followed  by  Philip's  light  car- 
riage. "It's  three  days  in  one  to  me,  and  a  deal  more  like 
day  after  to-morrow  morning  than  this  afternoon.  Now, 
a  telegraph  would  be  a  convenience ;  I  could  send  word  and 
have  chickens  killed  and  picked,  against  we  got  there." 

Joseph  answered  her  by  driving  as  rapidly  as  the  rough 
country  roads  permitted,  without  endangering  horse  and 
vehicle.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  think  coherently, 
impossible  to  thrust  back  the  single  overwhelming  prospect 
of  relief  and  release  which  had  burst  upon  his  life.  He 
dared  to  admit  the  fortune  which  had  come  to  him  through 
death,  now  that  his  own  innocence  of  any  indirect  incitement 
thereto  had  been  established.  The  future  was  again  clear 
before  him ;  and  even  the  miserable  discord  of  the  past  year 
began  to  recede  and  form  only  an  indistinct  background  to 
the  infinite  pity  of  the  death-scene.  Mr.  Blessing's  testi- 
mony enabled  him  to  look  back  and  truly  interpret  the  last 
appealing  looks,  the  last  broken  words ;  his  heart  banished 
the  remembrance  of  its  accusations,  and  retained  only — so 
long  as  it  should  beat  among  living  men — a  deep  and  tender 
commiseration.  As  for  the  danger  he  had  escaped,  the 
slander  which  had  been  heaped  upon  him,  his  thoughts 
were  above  the  level  of  life  which  they  touched.  Ho 
was  nearer  than  he  suspected  to  that  only  true  indepen- 
dence of  soul  which  releases  a  man  from  the  yoke  of  cir- 
cumstances. 

Rachel  Miller  humored  his  silence  as  long  as  she  thought 
proper,  and  then  suddenly  and  awkwardly  interrupted  it. 
"  Yes,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  there's  a  little  of  the  old  currant 


339 

wine  is  the  cellar-closet  !  Town's-folks  generally  like  it,  and 
we  used  to  think  it  good  to  stay  a  body's  stomach  for  a  late 
meal,— as  it'll  be  apt  to  be.  lint  I've  not  asked  you  how 
you  relished  the  supper,  though  Ehvoocl,  to  be  sure,  allowed 
that  all  was  tolerable  nice.  And  I  see  the  Lord's  hand  in 
it,  as  I  hope  you  do,  Joseph  ;  fur  the  righteous  is  never  for- 
saken. We  can't  help  rejoice,  whore  \ve  ought  to  be  humbly 
returning  thanks,  and  owning  our  unworthiness ;  but  Philip 
Held  is  a  friend,  if  there  ever  was  one  ;  and  the  white  hen's 
brood,  though  they  are  new-fashioned  fowls,  are  plump 
enough  by  this  time.  I  disremember  whether  I  asked  El- 
wood  to  stop — " 

"  There  he  is  !  "  Joseph  interrupted  ;  "  turning  the  corner 
of  the  wood  before  us !  Lucy  is  with  him,— and  they  must 
both  come !  " 

He  drove  on  rapidly,  and  soon  overtook  El  wood's  lagging 
team.  The  horse,  indeed,  had  had  his  own  way,  and  the 
sound  of  approaching  wheels  awoke  Elwood  from  a  trance 
of  incredible  happiness.  Before  answering  Joseph,  he  -whis- 
pered to  Lucy : — 

"What  shall  we  say?  It'll  be  the  heaviest  favor  I've 
ever  been  called  upon  to  do  a  friend." 

"Do  it,  then!  "  she  said :  "the  day  is  too  blessed  to  be 
kept  for  ourselves  alone." 

How  fair  the  valley  shone,  as  they  came  into  it  out  of  the 
long  glen  between  the  hills!  What  cheer  there  was,  even 
in  the  fading  leaves ;  what  happy  promise  in  the  mellow 
autumn  sky!  The  gate  to  the  lane  stood  open;  Dennis, 
with  a  glowing  face,  waited  for  the  horse.  He  wanted  to 
say  something,  but  not  knowing  how,  shook  hands  with  Jo- 
seph, and  then  pretended  to  be  concerned  with  the  harness. 
Rachol,  on  entering  the  kitchen,  found  her  neighbor,  Mrs. 


340  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEXD. 

Bishop,  embarked  011  a  full  tide  of  preparation.  Two  plump 
fowls,  scalded  and  plucked,  lay  upon  the  table  ! 

This  was  too  much  for  luicliul  Miller.  She  had  borne 
up  bravely  through  the  trying  days,  concealing  her  anxiety 
lest  it  might  be  misinterpreted,  hiding  even  her  grateful 
emotion,  to  make  her  faith  in  Joseph's  innocence  seem  the 
stronger ;  and  now  Mrs.  Bishop's  thoughtfulness  was  the 
slight  touch  under  which  she  gave  way.  She  sat  down  and 
cried. 

Mrs.  Bishop,  with  a  stew-pan  in  one  hand,  while  she 
wiped  her  sympathetic  eyes  with  the  other,  explained  that 
her  husband  had  come  home  an  hour  before,  with  the  news ; 
and  that  she  just  guessed  help  would  be  wanted,  or  leastways 
company,  and  so  she  had  made  bold  to  begin ;  for,  though 
the  truth  had  been  made  manifest,  and  the  right  had  been 
proved,  as  anybody  might  know  it  would  be,  still  it  was  a 
trial,  and  people  needed  to  eat  more  and  better  under  trials 
than  at  any  other  time.  "  You  may  not  feel  inclined  for 
victuals ;  but  there's  the  danger  !  A  body's  body  must  be 
supported,  whether  or  no." 

Meanwhile,  Joseph  and  his  guests  sat  on  the  veranda,  in 
the  still,  mild  air.  He  drew  his  chair  near  to  Philip's,  their 
hands  closed  upon  each  other,  and  they  were  entirely  happy 
in  the  tender  and  perfect  manly  love  which  united  them. 
Madeline  sat  in  front,  with  a  nimbus  of  sunshine  around  her 
hair,  feeling  also  the  embarrassment  of  speech  at  such  a 
moment,  yet  bravely  endeavoring  to  gossip  with  Lucy  on 
other  matters.  But  Elwood's  face,  so  bright  that  it  became 
almost  beautiful,  caught  her  eye :  she  glanced  at  Philip,  who 
answered  with  a  smile  ;  then  at  Lucy,  whose  cheek  bloomed 
with  the  loveliest  color ;  and,  rising  without  a  Avord,  she 
went  to  the  latter  and  embraced  her. 


Then,  stretching  lier  hand  to  Elwood,  she  said:  '-'Forgive 
me,  both  of  vou.  for  showing  how  glad  I  am  ! 

'•  Philip  !  ''  Joseph  cried,  as  the  truth  flashed  upon  him  ; 
'•"life  is  not  always  unjust  !  It  is  we  who  are  impatient." 

They  both  arose  and  gave  hands  of  congratulation;  and 
Ehvood,  though  so  deeply  moved  that  he  scarcely  trusted 
himself  to  speak,  was  so  frankly  proud  and  happy,— so 
purely  and  honestly  man  in  such  a  sacred  moment, — that 
Lucy's  heart  swelled  with  an  equally  proud  recognition  of 
las  feeling.  Their  eyes  met,  and  no  memory  of  a  mistaken 
Past  could  ever  again  come  like  a  cloud  across  the  light  of 
their  mutual  faith. 

"  The  day  was  blessed  already,"  said  Philip ;  "  but  this 
makes  it  perfect." 

No  one  knew  how  the  time  went  by,  or  could  afterwards 
recall  much  that  was  said.  Rachel  Miller,  with  many 
apologies,  summoned  them  to  a  sumptuous  meal;  and  when 
the  moon  hung  chill  and  clear  above  the  creeping  mists  of 
the  valley,  they  parted. 

The  next  evening,  Joseph  went  to  Philip  at  the  Forge. 
It  was  well  that  he  should  breathe  another  atmosphere,  and 
dwell,  for  a  little  while,  within  walls  where  no  ghosts  of 
his  former  life  wandered.  Madeline,  the  most  hospitably 
observant  of  hostesses,  seemed  to  have  planned  the  arrange- 
ments solely  for  his  and  Philip's  intercourse.  The  short 
evening  of  the  country  was  not  half  over,  before  she 
sent  them  to  Philip's  room,  where  a  genial  wood-fire  prat- 
tled and  flickered  on  the  hearth,  with  two  easy-chairs  be- 
fore it. 

Philip  lighted  a  pipe  and  they  sat  down.  "  Now,  Joseph," 
said  he,  "  I'll  answer  '  Yes  ! '  to  the  question  in  your  mind." 

"You  have  been  talking  with  Bishop,  Philip?" 


342  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIKND. 

"  ]STo  ;  but  I  won't  mystify  you.  As  I  rode  up  the  valley, 
I  saw  you  two  standing  on  the  hill,  and  could  easily  guess 
the  rest.  A  largo  estate  in  this  country  is  only  an  imagi- 
nary fortune.  You  are  not  so  much  of  a  farmer,  Joseph 
that  it  will  cut  you  to  the  heart  and  make  you  dream  of 
ruin  to  part  with  a  fe\v  fields  ;  if  you  were,  I  should  say 
get  that  weakness  out  of  you  at  once  !  A  man  should  pos- 
sess his  property,  not  be  possessed  by  it." 

"  You  are  right,"  Joseph  answered  ;  "  I  have  been  fight- 
ing against  an  inherited  feeling." 

"  The  only  question  is,  will  the  sale  of  those  fifty  acres 
relieve  you  of  all  present  embarrassments  ?  " 

"  So  far,  Philip,  that  a  new  mortgage  of  about  half  the 
amount  will  cover  what  remains." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  Philip.  "  This  is  better  than  I  thought. 
Mr.  Hopeton.  is  looking  for  sure,  steady  investments,  and 
will  furnish  whatever  you  need.  So  there  is  no  danger  of 
foreclosure." 

"  Things  seem  to  shape  themselves  almost  too  easily  now," 
Joseph  answered.  I  see  the  old,  mechanical  routine  of  my 
life  coming  back  :  it  should  be  enough  for  me,  but  it  is  not ; 
can  you  tell  me  why,  Philip  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  it  never  was  enough.  The  most  of  our  neighbors 
are  cases  of  arrested  development.  Their  intellectual  nature 
only  takes  so  many  marks,  like  a  horse's  teeth ;  there  is  a 
point  early  in  their  lives,  where  its  form  becomes  fixed. 
There  is  neither  the  external  influence,  nor  the  inward  neces- 
sity, to  drive  them  a  step  further.  They  find  the  Sphinx 
dangerous,  and  keep  out  of  her  way.  Of  course,  as  soon  as 
they  passively  begin  to  accept  what  is,  all  that  was  fluent  or 
plastic  in  them  soon  hardens  into  the  old  moulds.  Now,  I 
am  not  very  wise,  but  this  appears  to  me  to  be  truth ;  that 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  343 

life  is  a  grand  centrifugal  force,  forever  growing  from  a 
wider  circle  towards  one  that  is  still  wider.  Your  .stationary 
men  may  be  necessary,  and  even  serviceable  ;  but  to  me — • 
and  to  YOU,  Joseph — there  is  neither  joy  nor  peace  except 
in  some  kind  of  growth." 

"  If  we  could  be  always  sure  of  the  direction !  "  Joseph 
sighed. 

"  That's  the  point  !  "  Philip  eagerly  continued.  "  Tf  we 
stop  to  consider  danger  in  advance,  we  should  never  venture 
a  step.  A  movement  is  always  clear  after  it  has  been  made, 
not  often  before.  It  is  enough  to  test  one's  intention ;  un- 
less we  are  tolerably  bad,  something  guides  vis,  and  adjusts 
the  consequences  of  our  acts.  Why,  we  are  like  spiders,  in 
the  midst  of  a  million  gossamer  threads,  which  we  are  all 
the  time  spinning  without  knowing  it !  Who  are  to  mea- 
sure our  lives  for  us  ?  Not  other  men  with  other  necessi- 
ties !  and  so  we  come  back  to  the  same  point  again,  where  I 
started.  Looking  back  now,  can  you  see  no  gain  in  your 
mistake  ?  " 

"Yes,  a  gain  I  can  never  lose.  I  begin  to  think  that 
haste  and  weakness  also  are  vices,  and  deserve  to  be 
punished.  It  was  a  dainty,  effeminate  soul  you  found,  Phi- 
lip,— a  moral  and  spiritual  Sybarite,  I  should  say  now.  I 
must  have  expected  to  lie  on  rose-leaves,  and  it  was  right 
that  I  should  find  thorns." 

"  I  think,"  said  Philip,  "  the  world  needs  a  new  code  of 
ethics.  We  must  cure  the  unfortunate  tendencies  of  some 
qualities  that  seem  good,  and  extract  the  good  from  others 
that  seem  evil.  But  it  would  need  more  than  a  Luther  for 
such  a  Reformation.  I  confess  I  am  puzzled,  when  I  at- 
tempt to  study  moral  ca,uses  and  consequences  in  men's 
Jives.  It  is  nothing  but  a  tangle,  when  I  take  them  collec- 


344  JOSEPH    AXD    HIS    FRIEND. 

tively.  What  if  each  of  us  were,  as  I  half  suspect,  as  inde- 
pendent as  a  planet,  yet  all  held  together  in  one  immense 
system  ?  Then  the  central  force  must  be  our  close  depend- 
ence on  God,  as  I  have  learned  to  feel  it  through  you." 

"  Through  me  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  Do  you  suppose  we  can  be  so  near  each  other  without 
giving  and  taking  ?  Let  us  not  try  to  get  upon  a  common 
ground  of  faith  or  action  :  it  is  a  thousand  times  more  de- 
lightful to  discover  that  we  now  and  then  reach  the  same 
point  by  different  paths.  This  reminds  me,  Joseph,  that 
our  paths  ought  to  separate  now,  for  a  while.  Tt  is  you  who 
should  leave, — but  only  to  come  back  again,  '  in  the  fulness 
of  time.'  Heaven  knows,  I  am  merciless  to  myself  in  recom- 
mending it." 

"  You  are  right  to  try  me.  It  is  time  that  I  should 
know  something  of  the  world.  But  to  leave,  now — so 
immediately —  " 

"  It  will  make  no  difference,"  said  Philip.  "  Whether 
you  go  or  stay,  there  will  be  stories  afloat.  The  bolder  plan 
is  the  better." 

The  subject  was  renewed  the  next  morning  at  breakfast. 
Madeline  heartily  seconded  Philip's  counsel,  and  took  a 
lively  part  in  the  discussion. 

"We  were  in  Europe  as  children,"  she  said  to  Joseph, 
"  and  I  have  very  clear  and  delightful  memories  of  tho 
travel." 

"  I  was  not  thinking  especially  of  Europe,"  he  answered. 
"  I  am  hardly  prepared  for  such  a  journey.  What  I  should 
wish  is,  not  to  look  idly  at  sights  and  shows,  but  to  have 
some  active  interest  or  employment,  which  would  bring  me 
into  contact  with  men.  Philip  knows  my  piirpose." 

"  Then,"  said  Madeline,  "  why  not  hunt  on  Philip's  trail  ? 


345 

I  have  no  doubt  you  can  track  him  from  Texas  to  the  Pacific 
by  the  traditions  of  his  wild  pranks  and  adventures  !  How 
I  should  enjoy  geitin^  hold  of  a  fe\v  chapters  of  his  history  !  '' 

"  Madeline,  you  are  a  genius  !  "  Philip  cried.  "  How 
could  I  have  forgotten  AVilder\s  letter,  a  fortnight  ago,  you 
remember  ?  One  need  not  be  a  practical  geologist  to  make 
the  business  report  he  wants  ;  but  Joseph  has  read  enough 
to  take  hold,  with  the  aid  of  the  books  I  can  give  him  !  If 
it  is  not  too  late  !  " 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  that,  Philip,"  Madeline  answered. 
"  Did  you  not  say  that  the  place  was —  " 

She  hesitated.  "  Dangerous  ?  "  said  Philip.  "  Yes.  But 
if  Joseph  goes  there,  he  will  come  back  to  us  again." 

"  O,  don't  invoke  misfortune  in  that  way  !  " 

"  Neither  do  I,"  he  gravely  replied ;  "  but  I  can  see  the 
shadow  of  Joseph's  life  thrown  ahead,  as  I  can  see  my  own." 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  be  sent  into  danger,"  said 
Joseph. 

Philip  smiled  :  "  As  if  you  had  not  just  escaped  the 
greatest  !  Well,  —  it  was  Madeline's  guess  which  most 
helped  to  avert  it,  and  now  it  is  her  chance  word  which  will 
probably  send  you  into  another  one." 

Joseph  looked  up  in  astonishment.  "  I  don't  understand 
you,  Philip,"  he  said. 

"  O  Philip  !  "  cried  Madeline. 

"  I  had  really  forgotten,"  he  answered,  "  that  you  knew 
nothing  of  the  course  by  which  we  reached  your  defence. 
Madeline  first  suggested  to  me  that  the  poison  was  some- 
times used  as  a  cosmetic,  and  on  this  hint,  with  Mr.  Bless- 
ing's help,  the  truth  was  discovered." 

And  I  did  not  know  how  much  I  owe  to  you!"  Joseph 

exclaimed,  turning  towards  her. 
15* 


S-iG  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

"  Do  not  thank  me,"  she  said,  "for  Philip  thinks  the  for- 
tunate guess  may  be  balanced  by  an  evil  one." 

"  No,  no  •  "  Joseph  protested,  noticing  the  slight  tremble 
in.  her  voice  ;  "  I  will  take  it  as  a  good  omen.  Now  I  know 
that  danger  will  pass  me  by,  if  it  comes  !  " 

"  If  your  experience  should  be  anything  like  mine,"  said 
Philip,  "you  will  only  recognize  the  danger  when  you  can 
turn  and  look  back  at  it.  But,  come !  Madeline  has  less 
superstition  in  her  nature  than  she  would  have  us  believe. 
Wilcler's  offer  is  just  the  thing ;  I  have  his  letter  on  file, 
and  will  write  to  him  at  once.  Let  us  go  down  to  my 
office  at  the  Forge  !  " 

The  letter  was  from  a  capitalist  who  had  an  interest  in 
several  mines  in  Arizona  and  Nevada.  Pie  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  returns,  and  wished  to  send  a  private,  confidential 
agent  to  those  regions,  to  examine  the  prospects  and  opera- 
tions of  the  companies  and  report  thereupon.  With  the  aid 
of  a  map  the  probable  course  of  travel  was  marked  out,  and 
Joseph  rejoiced  at  the  broad  field  of  activity  and  adventure 
which  it  opened  to  him. 

He  stayed  with  Philip  a  day  or  two  longer,  and  every 
evening  the  fire  made  a  cheery  accompaniment  to  the  deep- 
est and  sweetest  confidences  of  their  hearts,  now  pausing  as 
if  to  listen,  now  rapidly  murmuring  some  happy,  inarticulate 
secret  of  its  own.  As  each  gradually  acquired  full  possession 
of  the  other's  past,  the  circles  of  their  lives,  as  Philip  said, 
were  reciprocally  widened;  but  as  the  horizon  spread,  it 
seemed  to  meet  a  clearer  sky.  Their  eyes  were  no  longer 
fixed  on  the  single  point  of  time  wherein  they  breathed. 
Whatever  pain  remained,  melted  before  them  and  behind 
them  into  atmospheres  of  resignation  and  wiser  patience. 
One  gave  his  courage  and  experience,  the  other  his  pure 


347 

instinct,  his  faith  find  aspiration;  and  a  now  harmony  came 
from  the  closer  interfusion  of  sweetness  and  strength. 

When  Joseph  returned  home,  lie  at  once  set  about  putting 
his  affairs  in  order,  and  making  arrangements  for  an  absence 
of  a  year  or  more.  It  was  necessary  that  he  should  come  in 
contact  with  most  of  his  neighbors,  and  he  was  made;  aware 
of  their  good  will  without  knowin"  that  it  was,  in  many 

O  J 

cases,  a  reaction  from  suspicion  and  slanderous  gossip.  Mr. 
Chaffinch  had  even  preached  a  sermon,  in  which  no  name 
was  mentioned,  but  everybody  understood  the  allusion.  This 
was  considered  to  be  perfectly  right,  so  long  as  the  prejudices 
of  the  people  were  with  him,  and  Julia  was  supposed  to  be 
the  pious  and  innocent  victim  of  a  crime.  When,  however, 
the  truth  had  been  established,  many  who  had  kept  silent 
now  denounced  the  sermon,  and  another  on  the  deceitfulness 
of  appearances,  which  Mr.  Chaffinch  gave  on  the  following 
Sabbath,  was  accepted  as  the  nearest  approach  to  an  apology 
consistent  with  his  clerical  dignity. 

Joseph  was  really  ignorant  of  these  proceedings,  and  the 
quiet,  self-possessed,  neighborly  way  in  which  he  met  the 
people  gave  them  a  new  impression  of  his  character.  More- 
over, he  spoke  of  his  circumstances,  when  it  was  necessary, 
with  a  frankness  unusual  among  them  ;  and  the  natural  re- 
sult was  that  his  credit  was  soon  established  on  as  sound  a 
basis  as  ever.  When,  through  Philip's  persistence,  the  mis- 
sion to  the  Pacific  coast  was  secured,  but  little  further  time 
was  needed  to  complete  the  arrangements.  By  the  sacrifice 
of  one-fourth  of  his  land,  the  rest  was  saved,  and  intrusted 
to  good  hands  during  his  absence.  Philip,  in  the  mean  time, 
had  fortified  him  with  as  many  hints  and  instructions  as 
possible,  and  he  was  ready,  with  a  light  heart  and  a  full  head, 
to  set  out  upon  the  long  and  uncertain  journey. 


348  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

LETTERS. 
I.   JOSEPH  TO  PHILIP. 

CAMP ,  ARIZONA,  October  19, 1868. 

SINCE  I  wrote  to  you  from  Prescott,  dear  Philip,  three 
months  have  passed,  and  I  have  had  no  certain  means  of 
sending  you  another  letter.  There  was,  first,  Mr.  Wilder's 

interest  at ,  the  place  hard  to  reach,  and  the  business 

difficult  to  investigate.  It  was  not  so  easy,  even  with  the 
help  of  your  notes,  to  connect  the  geology  of  books  with  the 
geology  of  nature ;  these  rough  hills  don't  at  all  resemble 
the  clean  drawings  of  strata.  However,  I  have  learned  all 
the  more  rapidly  by  not  assuming  to  know  much,  and  the  re- 
port I  sent  contained  a  great  deal  more  than  my  own  per- 
sonal experience.  The  duty  was  irksome  enough,  at  times; 
I  have  been  tempted  by  the  evil  spirits  of  ignorance,  indo- 
lence, and  weariness,  and  I  verily  believe  that  the  fear  of 
failing  to  make  good  your  guaranty  for  my  capacity  was  the 
spur  which  kept  me  from  giving  way.  Now,  habit  is  begin- 
ning to  help  me,  and,  moreover,  my  own  ambition  has  some- 
thing to  stand  on. 

I  had  scarcely  finished  and  forwarded  my  first  superficial 
account  of  the  business  as  it  appeared  to  me,  when  a  chance 
suddenly  offered  of  joining  a  party  of  prospecters,  some 
of  whom  I  had  already  met :  as  you  know,  we  get  acquainted 
iu  little  time,  and  with  no  introductions  in  these  parts. 
They  were  bound,  first,  for  some  little-known  regions  in 


JOJ-KPU    AND    1118    FRIKND. 

Eastern  Nevada,  and  then,  passing  a  point  which  Mr. 
"Wilder  wished  me  to  visit  (and  which  T  could  not  have 
reached  so  directly  from  any  other  (jnarter),  they  meant  to 
finish  the  journey  at  Austin.  It  was  an  opportunity  I 
could  not  let  go,  though  I  will  admit  to  you,  Philip,  that  I 
also  hoped  to  overtake  the  adventures,  which  had  seemed  to 
recede  from  me,  rainbow-fashion,  as  I  went  on. 

Some  of  the  party  were  old  Eocky  Mountain  men,  as  Avary 
as  courageous ;  yet  we  passed  through  one  or  two  straits 
which  tested  all  their  endurance  and  invention.  I  won't  say 
how  I  stood  the  test ;  perhaps  I  ought  to  be  satisfied  that 
I  came  through  to  the  end,  and  am  now  alive  and  cheerful. 

~  j 

To  be  sure,  there  are  many  other  ways  of  measuring  our 
strength.  This  experience  wouldn't  help  me  the  least  in  a 
discussion  of  principles,  or  in  organizing  any  of  the  machi- 
nery of  society.  It  is  rather  like  going  back  to  the  first 
ages  of  mankind,  and  being  tried  in  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. To  me,  that  is  a  great  deal.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been 
taken  out  of  civilization  and  set  back  towards  the  beginning, 
in  order  to  work  my  way  up  again. 

But  what  is  the  practical  result  of  this  journey  ?  you  will 
ask.  I  can  hardly  tell,  at  present :  if  I  were  to  state  that  I 
have  been  acting  on  your  system  of  life  rather  than  my  own, 
— that  is,  making  ventures  without  any  certainty  of  the  con- 
sequences,— I  think  you  would  shake  your  head.  Neverthe- 
less, in  these  ten  months  of  absence  I  have  come  out  of  my 
old  skin  and  am  a  livelier  snake  than  you  ever  knew  me  to 
be.  No,  I  am  wrong;  it  is  hardly  a  venture  after  all,  and 
my  self-glorification  is  out  of  place.  I  have  the  prospect  of 
winning  a  great  deal  where  a  very  little  has  been  staked,  and 
the  most  timid  man  in  the  world  might  readily  go  that  far. 
Again  you  will  shake  your  head ;  you  remember  "  The 


350  josEi'ir  AXD  ins  FRIEND. 

Amaranth."  How  I  should  like  to  Lear  what  lias  become 
of  that  fearful  and  wonderful  .speculation  ! 

Pray  give  me  news  of  Mr.  Blessing.  All  those  matters 
seem  to  lie  so  far  behind  me,  that  they  look  differently  to 
my  eyes.  Somehow,  I  can't  keep  the  old  impressions ;  I 
even  begin  to  forget  them.  You  said,  Philip,  that  he  was 
not  intentionally  dishonest,  and  something  tells  me  you  are 
right.  We  learn  men's  characters  rapidly  in  this  rough 
school,  because  we  cannot  get  away  from  the  close,  rough, 
naked  contact.  What  surprises  me  is  that  the  knowledge  is 
not  only  good  for  present  and  future  use,  but  that  I  can  take 
it  with  me  into  my  past  life.  One  weakness  is  left,  and  you 
will  understand  it.  I  blush  to  myself, — I  am  ashamed  of 
my  early  innocence  and  ignorance.  This  is  wrong ;  yet, 
Philip,  I  seem  to  have  been  so  unmanly, — at  least  so  unmas- 
culine  !  I  looked  for  love,  and  fidelity,  and  all  the  virtues, 
on  the  surface  of  life  ;  believed  that  a  gentle  tongue  was  the 
sign  of  a  tender  heart ;  felt  a  wound  when  some  strong  and 
positive,  yet  differently  moulded  being  approached  me  ! 
Now,  here  are  fellows  prickly  as  a  cactus,  with  something  at 
the  core  as  true  and  tender  as  you  will  find  in  a  woman's 
heart.  They  would  stake  their  lives  for  me  sooner  than 
some  persons  (whom  we  know)  would  lend  me  a  hundred 
dollars,  without  security  !  Even  your  speculator,  whom  I 
have  rnet  in  every  form,  is  by  no  means  the  purely  merce- 
nary and  dangerous  man  I  had  supposed. 

In  short,  Philip,  I  am  on  very  good  terms  with  human 
nature ;  the  other  nature  does  not  suit  me  so  well.  It  is  a 
grand  thing  to  look  down  into  the  canon  of  the  Colorado,  or 
to  see  a  range  of  perfectly  clear  and  shining  snow-peaks 
across  the  dry  sage-plains ;  but  oh,  for  one  acre  of  our  green 
meadows !  I  dreamed  of  them,  and  the  clover-fields,  and 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FEIEXD.  351 

the  woods  and  running  streams,  through  the  terrific  heat  of 
the  Nevada  deserts,  until  the  tears  came.  It  is  nearly  a 
year  since  I  L'i't  home:  1  should  think  it  fifty  years! 

V\  ith  this  mail  goe.s  another  report  to  jir.  AVilder.  In 
three  or  four  months  my  task  will  be  at  an  end,  and  I  shall 
then  be  free  to  return.  A\  ill  you  welcome  the  brown-faced, 
full  bearded  man,  broad  in  cheek's  and  shoulders,  as  you 
would  the — but  how  did  I  use  to  look,  Philip  ?  It  was  a 
younger  brother  you  knew ;  but  lie  has  bequeathed  all  of  his 
love,  and  more,  to  the  older. 

II.     PHILIP  TO  JOSEPH. 

COVENTRY  FORGE,  Christmas  Day. 

When  Madeline  hung  a  wreath  of  holly  around  your 
photograph  this  morning,  I  said  to  it  as  I  say  now :  "  A. 
merry  Christmas,  Joseph,  wherever  you  are!"  It  is  a 
calm  sunny  day,  and  my  view,  as  you  know,  reaches  much 
further  through  the  leafless  trees ;  but  only  the  meadow  on 
the  right  is  green.  You,  on  the  contrary,  are  enjoying 
something  as  near  to  Paradise  in  color,  and  atmosphere, 
and  temperature  (if  you  are,  as  I  guess,  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia), as  you  will  ever  be  likely  to  see. 

Yes,  I  will  welcome  the  new  man,  althoxigh  I  shall  see 
more  of  the  old  one  in  him  than  you  perhaps  think, — nor 
would  I  have  it  otherwise.  We  don't  change  the  bases  of 
our  lives,  after  all :  the  forces  are  differently  combined, 
otherwise  developed,  but  they  hang,  I  fancy,  to  the  same 
roots.  Nay,  I'll  leave  preaching  until  I  have  you  again  at 
the  old  fireside.  Yoxi  want  news  from  home,  and  no  miser- 
able little  particular  is  unimportant.  I've  been  there,  and 
know  what  kind  of  letters  are  welcome. 


002  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

The  neighborhood  (I  like  to  hover  around  a  while,  before 
alighting)  is  still  a  land  where  all  things  always  seem  the 
same.  The  trains  run  up  and  down  our  valley,  carrying  a 
little  of  the  world  boxed  up  in  shabby  cars,  but  leaving  no 
mark  behind.  In  another  year  the  people  will  begin  to 
visit  the  city  more  frequently ;  in  still  another,  the  city 
people  will  find  their  way  to  iis ;  in  five  years,  population 
will  increase  and  property  will  rise  in  value.  This  is  my 
estimate,  based  on  a  plentiful  experience. 

Last  week,  Madeline  and  I  attended  the  wedding  of 
Elwood  Withers.  It  was  at  the  Hopeton's,  and  had  been 
postponed  a  week  or  two,  on  account  of  the  birth  of  a  son 
to  our  good  old  business-friend.  There  are  two  events  for 
you  !  Elwood,  who  has  developed,  as  I  knew  he  would, 
into  an  excellent  director  of  men  and  material  undertakings, 
has  an  important  contract  on  the  new  road  to  the  coal 
regions.  He  showed  me  the  plans  and  figures  the  other 
day,  and  I  see  the  beginning  of  wealth  in  them.  Lucy, 
who  is  a  born  lady,  will  save  him  socially  and  intellectually. 
I  have  never  seen  a  more  justifiable  marriage.  He  was 
pale  and  happy,  she  sweetly  serene  and  confident ;  and  the 
few  words  he  said  at  the  breakfast,  in  answer  to  the  health 
which  Hopeton  gave  in  his  choice  Yin  d'A'i,  made  the  un- 
married ladies  envy  the  bride.  Really  and  sincerely,  I 
came  away  from  the  house  more  of  a  Christian  than  I  went. 

You  know  all,  dearest  friend :  was  it  not  a  test  of  my 
heart  to  see  that  she  was  intimately,  fondly  happy  ?  It  was 
hardly  any  more  the  face  I  once  knew.  I  felt  the  change 
in  the  touch  of  her  hand.  I  heard  it  in  the  first  word  she 
spoke.  I  did  not  dare  to  look  into  my  heart  to  see  if  some- 
thing there  were  really  dead,  for  the  look  would  have  called 
the  dead  to  life.  I  made  one  heroic  effort,  heaved  a  stone 


over  the  place,  and  sealed  it  down  forever.  Then  I  felt 
your  arm  on  mv  shoulder,  your  hand  on  my  breast.  I  was 
strong  and  joyous;  Lucy,  I  imagined,  looked  at  me  from 
time  to  time,  but  with  a  bright  face,  as  if  she  divined  what 
I  had  done.  Can.  she  have  ever  suspected  the  truth? 

Time  is  a  specific  administered  to  us  for  all  spiritual 
shocks ;  but  change  of  habit  is  better.  AVhv  may  I  not 
change  in  quiet  as  you  in  action  ?  It  seems  to  me,  some- 
times, as  I  sit  alone  before  the  fire,  with  the  pipe-stem 
between  my  teeth,  that  each  of  us  is  going  backward 
through  the  other's  experience.  You  will  thus  prove  my 
results  as  I  prove  yours.  Then,  parted  as  we  are,  I  see 
our  souls  lie  open  to  each  other  in  equal  light  and  warmth, 
and  feel  that  the  way  to  God  lies  through  the  love  of 
man. 

Two  years  ago,  how  all  our  lives  were  tangled !  Now, 
with  so  little  agency  of  our  own,  how  they  are  flowing  into 
smoothness  and  grace !  Yours  and  mine  are  not  yet  com- 
plete, but  they  are  no  longer  distorted.  One  disturbing,  yet 
most  pitiable,  nature  has  been  removed ;  El  wood,  Lucy,  the 
Hopetons,  are  happy;  you  and  I  are  healed  of  our  impa- 
tience. Yes,  there  is  something  outside  of  our  own  wills  that 
works  for  or  against  us,  as  we  may  decide.  If  I  once  forgot 
this,  it  is  all  the  clearer  now. 

I  have  foi-gotten  one  other, — Mr.  Blessing.  The  other  day 
I  visited  him  in  the  city.  I  found  him  five  blocks  nearer 
the  fashionable  quarter,  in  a  larger  house.  He  was  elegantly 
dressed,  and  wore  a  diamond  on  his  bosom.  He  came  to 
meet  me  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

"From  Mrs.  Spelter,  my  daughter,"  he  said,  waving  it 
with  a  grand  air, — "  an  account  of  her  presentation  to  the 
Emperor  Napoleon.  The  dress  was — let  me  see — blue  moire 


354  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

and  Oliantilly  lace  ;  Eugenie  was  quite  struck  with  her  figure 
and  complexion." 

"  The  world  seems  to  treat  yon  well,"  I  suggested. 

"  Another  turn  of  the  wheel.  However,  it  showed  me 
what  I  am  capable  of  achieving,  when  a  strong  spur  is  applied. 
In  this  case  the  spur  was,  as  you  probably  guess,  Mr.  Held, — 
honor.  Sir,  I  prevented  a  cataclysm  !  You  of  course  know 
the  present  quotations  of  the  Amaranth  stock,  but  you  can 
hardly  be  aware  of  my  agency  in  the  matter.  When  I  went  to 
the  Oil  Region  with  the  available  remnant  of  funds,  Kanuck 
had  fled.  Although  the  merest  tyro  in  geology,  I  selected  a 
spot  back  of  the  river-bluffs,  in  a  hollow  of  the  undulating 
table-land,  sunk  a  shaft,  and — succeeded !  It  was  what  some- 
body calls  an  inspired  guess.  I  telegraphed  instantly  to  a 
friend,  and  succeeded  in  purchasing  a  moderate  portion  of 
the  stock — not  so  much  as  I  desired — before  its  value  was 
known.  As  for  the  result,  si  monumentum  quceris,  circum- 
spice  !  " 

I  wish  I  could  give  you  an  idea  of  the  air  with  which  he 
said  this,  standing  before  me  with  his  feet  in  position,  and 
his  arms  thrown  out  in  the  attitude  of  Ajax  defying  the  light- 
ning. 

I  ventured  to  inquire  after  your  interest.  "  The  shares 
are  here,  sir,  and  safe,"  he  said,  "  worth  not  a  cent  less  than 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars." 

I  urged  him  to  sell  them  and  deposit  the  money  to  your 
credit,  but  this  he  refused  to  do  without  your  authority. 
There  was  no  possibility  of  depreciation,  he  said :  very 
well,  if  so,  this  is  your  time  to  sell.  Now,  as  I  write,  it 
occurs  to  me  that  the  telegraph  may  reach  you.  I  close  this, 
therefore,  at  once,  and  post  over  to  the  office  at  Oakland. 

Madeline  says :  "  A  merry  Christmas  from  me  !  "     It  is 


355 

fixed  in  her  Load  tliat  you  are  still  exposed  to  some  mys- 
terious danger.  Come  back,  shame  her  superstition,  and 
make  happy  your 

PHILIP. 

III.  JOSEPH  TO  PHILIP. 

SAX  1'iuxcisco,  June  3,  1609. 
Philip,  Philip,  I  have  found  j  our  valley  ! 
After  my  trip  to  Oregon,  in  March,  I  went  southward, 
along  the  v  ostern  base  of  the  Sierra  Xevada,  intending  at 
first  to  cross  the  range  ;  but  falling  in  with  an  old  friend  of 
yours,  a  man  of  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  of  books  and 
men,  I  kept  company  with  him,  on  and  on,  until  the  great 
wedges  of  snow  lay  behind  us,  and  only  a  long,  low,  winding 
pass  divided  us  from  the  sands  of  the  Colorado  Desert. 
From  the  mouth  of  this  pass  I  looked  on  a  hundred  miles  of 
mountains  ;  there  were  lakes  glimmering  below  ;  there  were 
groves  of  ilex  on  the  hillsides,  an  orchard  of  oranges,  olives, 
and  vines  in  the  hollow,  millions  of  flowers  hiding  the  earth 
pure  winds,  fresh  waters,  and  remoteness  from  all  conven- 
tional society.  I  have  never  seen  a  landscape  so  broad, 
so  bright,  so  beautiful ! 

Yes,  but  we  will  only  go  there  on  one  of  these  idle  epicu- 
rean journeys  of  which  we  dream,  and  then  to  enjoy  the  wit 
and  wisdom  of  our  generous  friend,  not  to  seek  a  refuge  from 
the  perversions  of  the  world  !  For  I  have  learned  another 
thing,  Philip :  the  freedom  we  craved  is  not  a  thing  to  be 
found  in  this  or  that  ulace.  Unless  we  bring  it  with  us,  we 
shall  not  find  it. 

The  news  of  the  decline  of  the  Amaranth  stock,  in  your 
last,  does  not  surprise  me.  How  fortunate  that  my  tele- 
graphic order  arrived  in  season !  It  was  in  Mr.  Blessing's 


356  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

nature  to  hold  on  ;  but  lie  will  surely  Lave  something  left. 
I  mean  to  invest  half  of  the  sum  in  his  wife's  name,  in  any 
case;  for  the  "prospecting"  of  which  I  wrote  you,  last  fall, 
was  a  piece  of  more  than  ordinary  luck.  You  must  have 
heard  of  White  Pine,  by  this  time.  We  were  the  discover- 
ers, and  reaped  a  portion  of  the  first  harvest,  which  is  never 
equal  to  the  second ;  but  this  way  of  getting  wealth  is  so 
incredible  to  me,  even  after  I  have  it,  that  I  almost  fear  the 
gold  will  turn  into  leaves  or  pebbles,  as  in  the  fairy  tales. 
I  shall  not  tell  you  what  my  share  is:  let  me  keep  one 
secret, — nay,  two, — to  carry  home  ! 

More  incredible  than  anything  else  is  now  the  circum- 
stance that  we  are  within  a  week  of  each  other.  This  let- 
ter, I  hope,  will  only  precede  me  by  a  fortnight.  I  have  one 
or  two  last  arrangements  to  make,  and  then  the  locomotive 
will  cross  the  continent  too  slowly  for  my  eager  haste.  Why 
should  I  deny  it  ?  I  am  homesick,  body  and  soul.  Yerily, 
if  I  were  to  meet  Mr.  Chaffinch  in  Montgomery  Street,  I 
should  fling  myself  upon  his  neck,  before  coming  to  my 
sober  senses.  Even  he  is  no  longer  an  antipathy :  I  was 
absurd  to  make  one  of  him.  I  have  but  one  left ;  and 
Eugenie's  admiration  of  her  figure  and  complexion  does  not 
soften  it  in  the  least. 

How  happy  Madeline's  letter  made  me  !  After  I  wrote 
to  her,  I  would  have  recalled  mine,  at  any  price ;  for  I  had 
obeyed  an  impulse,  and  I  feared  foolishly.  What  you.  said 
of  her  "  superstition "  might  have  been  just,  I  thought. 
But  I  believe  that  a  true-hearted  woman  always  values 
impulses,  because  she  is  never  at  a  loss  to  understand  them. 
So  now  I  obey  another,  in  sending  the  enclosed.  Do  you 
know  that  her  face  is  as  clear  in  my  memory  as  yours  ?  and  as 
— but  why  should  I  write^  when  I  shall  so  soon  be  with  you  ? 


JOSEPH    AND    II  IS    FEIEXD.  357 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

ALL    ARE    HAPPY. 

THREE  weeks  after  the  date  of  Joseph's  last  letter  Philip 
met  him  at  the  railroad  station  in  the  city.  Brown,  bearded, 
fresh,  and  full  of  joyous  life  after  his  seven  days'  journey 
across  the  continent,  he  sprang  down  from  the  platform  to  be 
caught  in  his  friend's  arms. 

The  next  morning  they  went  together  to  Mr.  Blessing's 
residence.  That  gentleman  still  wore  a  crimson  velvet 
dressing-gown,  and  the  odor  of  the  cigar,  which  he  puffed  in 
a  rear  room,  called  the  library  (the  books  were  mostly  Pat- 
ent Office  and  Agricultural  Reports,  with  Faublas  and  the 
Decamerone),  breathed  plainly  of  the  Vuelte  Abajo. 

"  My  dear  boy  !  "  he  cried,  jumping  up  and  extending  his 
arms,  "  Asten  of  Asten  Hall !  After  all  your  moving  acci- 
dents by  flood  and  field,  back  again  !  This  is — is — what 
shall  I  say  ?  compensation  for  many  a  blow  of  fate  !  And 
my  brave  Knight  with  the  Iron  Hand,  sit  down,  though  it 
be  in  Caithage,  and  let  me  refresh  my  eyes  with  your 
faces  J" 

"  Not  Carthage  yet,  I  hope,"  said  Joseph. 

"  Not  quite,  if  I  adhere  strictly  to  facts,"  Mr.  Blessing 
replied  ;  "  although  it  threatens  to  be  my  Third  Punic  War. 

There  is  even  a  slight  upward  tendency  in  the  Amaranth 
shares,  and  if  the  company  were  in  my  hands,  we  should  soon 
float  upon  the  topmost  wave.  But  what  can  I  do  ?  The  Hon- 
orable Whaley  and  the  Reverend  Dr.  Lellifant  were  retained 


358  JOSEPH  AND  HIS  FRIEND. 

on  account  of  their  names ;  Whaley  made  president,  and  I 
— being  absent  at  the  time  developing  the  enterprise,  not 
only  pars  magna  but  to  tits  tcres  atque  rotundvs,  ha  !  lia  ! — I 
was  put  off  with  a  director's  place.  Now  I  must  stand  by, 
and  see  the  work  of  my  hands  overthrown.  But  'tis  ever 
thus !  " 

He  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  Philip,  most  heroically  repress- 
ing a  tendency  to  shriek  with  laughter,  drew  him  on  to  state 
the  particulars,  and  soon  discovered,  as  he  had  already  sus- 
pected, that  Mr.  Blessing's  sanguine  temperament  was  the 
real  difficulty ;  it  was  still  possible  for  him  to  withdraw,  and 
secure  a  moderate  success. 

When  this  had  been  made  clear,  Joseph  interposed. 
.  "  Mr.  Blessing,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  forget  how  recklessly, 
in  my  disappointment,  I  charged  you  with  dishonesty.  I 
know  also  that  you  have  not  forgotten  it.  Will  you  give 
me  an  opportunity  of  atoning  for  my  injustice? — not  that  you 
reqxiire  it,  but  that  I  may,  henceforth,  have  less  cause  for 
self-reproach." 

"  Your  words  are  enough  !  "  Mr.  Blessing  exclaimed.  "  I 
excused  you  long  ago.  You,  in  your  pastoral  seclu- 
sion— " 

"  But  I  have  not  been  secluded  for  eighteen  months  past," 
said  Joseph,  smiling.  "  It  is  the  better  knowledge  of  men 
•which  has  opened  my  eyes.  Besides,  you  have  no  right  to 
refuse  me ;  it  is  Mrs.  Blessing  whom  I  shall  have  to  con- 
sult." 

He  laid  the  papers  on  the  table,  explaining  that  half  the 
amount  realized  from  his  shares  of  the  Amaranth  had  been 
invested,  on  trust,  for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Eliza  Bless- 
ing. 

"  You  have   conquered — vincisti  !  "    cried  Mr.    Blessing, 


359 

shedding  tears.  "What  can  I  do?  Geuerositv  is  so  rare 
a  virtue  in  the  world,  that  it  would  be  a  crime  to  suppress 
it  !  " 

Philip  took  advantage  of  the  milder  mood,  and  plied  his 
arguments  so  skilfully  that  .at  last  the  exuberant  pride  of 
the  De  Belsain  blood  gave  wav. 

"  What  shall  I  do,  without  an  object, — a  hope,  a  faith  in 
possibilities  ?"  Mr.  Blessing  cried.  "The  amount  you  have 
estimated,  with  Joseph's  princely  provision,  is  a  competence 
for  my  old  days  ;  but  how  shall  I  till  out  those  days  ?  The 
sword  that  is  never  drawn  from  the  scabbard  rusts." 

"But,"  said  Philip,  gravely,  "you  forget  the  field  for 
which  you  were  destined  by  nature.  These  operations  in 
stocks  require  only  a  low  order  of  intellect ;  you  were  meant 
to  lead  and  control  multitudes  of  men.  With  your  fluency 
of  speech,  your  happy  faculty  of  illustration,  your  power  of 
presenting  facts  and  probabilities,  you  should  confine  your- 
self exclusively  to  the  higher  arena  of  politics.  Begin  as  an 
Alderman ;  then,  a  Member  of  the  Assembly ;  then,  the 
State  Senate ;  then — 

"  Member  of  Congress  !  "  cried  Mr.  Blessing,  rising,  with 
flushed  face  and  flashing  eyes.  "  You  are  right !  I  have 
allowed  the  necessity  of  the  moment  to  pull  me  down  from 
iny  proper  destiny  !  You  are  doubly  right !  My  creature 
comforts  once  secured,  I  can  give  my  time,  my  abilities,  my 
power  of  swaying  the  minds  of  men, — come,  let  us  withdraw, 
realize,  consolidate,  invest,  at  once  !  " 

They  took  him  at  his  word,  and  before  night  a  future,  froe 
from  want,  was  secured  to  him.  While  Philip  and  Joseph 
were  on  their  way  to  the  country  by  a  late  train,  Mr.  Bless- 
ing was  making  a  speech  of  an  hour  and  a  half  at  one  of  the 
primary  political  meetings. 


300  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

There  was  welcome  through  the  valley  when  Joseph's  ar- 
rival was  known.  For  two  or  three  days  the  neighbors 
flocked  to  the  farm  to  see  the  man  whose  adventures,  in  a 
very  marvellous  form,  had  been  circulating  among  them  for 
a  year  past.  Even  Mr.  Chaffinch  called,  and  was  so  concili- 
ated by  his  friendly  reception,  that  he,  thenceforth,  placed 
Joseph  in  the  ranks  of  those  "  impracticable "  men,  who 
might  be  nearer  the  truth  than  they  seemed  :  it  was  not  for 
us  to  judge. 

Every  evening,  however,  Joseph  took  his  saddle-horse  and 
rode  up  the  valley  to  Philip's  Forge.  It  was  not  only  the 
inexpressible  charm  of  the  verdure  to  which  he  had  so  long 
been  a  stranger, — not  only  the  richness  of  the  sunset  on  the 
hills,  the  exquisite  fragrance  of  the  meadow-grasses  in  the 
cool  air, — nay,  not  entirely  the  dear  companionship  of  Philip 
which  drew  him  thither.  A  sentiment  so  deep  and  powerful 
that  it  was  yet  unrecognized, — a  hope  so  faint  that  it  had 
not  yet  taken  form, — was  already  in  his  heart.  Philip  saw, 
and  was  silent. 

But,  one  night,  when  the  moon  hung  over  the  landscape, 
edging  with  sparkling  silver  the  summits  of  the  trees  below 
them,  when  the  air  was  still  and  sweet  and  warm,  and  filled 
with  the  diffused  murmurs  of  the  stream,  and  Joseph  and 
Madeline  stood  side  by  side,  on  the  curving  shoulder  of  the 
knoll,  Philip,  watching  them  from  the  open  window,  said  to 
himself :  "  They  are  swiftly  coming  to  the  knowledge  of 
each  other ;  will  it  take  Joseph  further  from  my  heart,  or 
bring  him  nearer?  It  ought  to  fill  me  with  perfect  joy,  yet 
there  is  a  little  sting  of  pain  somewhere.  My  life  had  set- 
tled down  so  peacefully  into  what  seemed  a  permanent  form ; 
with  Madeline  to  make  a  home  and  brighten  it  for  me,  and 
Joseph  to  give  me  the  precious  intimacy  of  a  man's  love,  so 


361 

different  from  woman's,  vet  so  pure  and  perfect  !     Thev  have 
destroyed  my  life,  although   they  do  not  guess  it.      AVell,  I 
must  be  vicariously  happy,  warmed  in   my  lonely  sphere  by 
the  far  radiation   of  their   nuptial   bliss,   seeing  a   faint  re- 
flection   of  some    parts    of   myself  in    their    children,    nay, 
claiming  and  making  them  mine  as  well,  if  it  is  meant  that 
my   own   blood   should   not  beat  in  other  hearts.      But  will 
this   be  sufficient?       Xo !   either    sex    is   incomplete   alone, 
and  a  man's  full  life  shall  be   mine  !     Ah,  you  unconscious 
lovers,  you  simple-souled  children,  that  know  not  what  you 
are  doing,  I  shall  be  even  with  you  in  the  end  !     The  world 
is  a  failure,  God's  wonderful   system  is  imperfect,  if  there 
is  not  now   living   a   noble   woman   to  bless   me   with   her 
love,  strengthen  me   with  her  self-sacrifice,  purify  me  with 
her  sweeter  and  clearer  faith  !     I  will  wait:  but  1  shall  find 
her !  " 


THE    END. 
16 


Hist  of  tfjc 


OF 


G.    P.    PUTNAM    &   SON, 

66 1   Broadzvay,  New  York 


BBOT.     MEXICO  AND  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
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Knickerbocker, 
Tales  of  a  Traveller, 
Wolfert's  Roost, 


Crayon  Miscellany, 
Bracebridge  Hall, 
Alhambra, 


Oliver  Goldsmith, 
Sketch- Book. 


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IRVIXG'S  ALHAMBRA.  A  Residence  in  the  celebrated 
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The  beautiful  "  Spanish  Sketch-Book,"  the  "  Alhambrn."- 

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IRVIXG'S  ASTORIA.  Astoria;  o~  Anecdotes  of  an  Enter- 
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view." 

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Humorists.  By  Washington  Irving.  In  one  volume  121110. 
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sions, in  the  singular  sweetness  of  the  composition."-/.^  Jeffrey,  in  Edinburgh 
Review. 

IRVING'S  COLUMBUS.  The  Life  and  Voyages  of  Chris- 
topher Columbus  ;  to  which  are  added  those  of  his  Com- 
panions. By  Washington  Irving.  In  three  volumes  I2rao. 
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^The' noblest  monument  to  the  memory  of  Columbus."—  W.  H.  ^"c°"'  .    ,  „ 
"  It  will  superseda  all  other  works  on  die  subject,  and  never  be  itself  superseded. 
—Lord  jtjtfrey. 


12  Publications  of 

IRVING'S  CRAYON.  The  Crayon  Miscellany.  Bj 
Washington  Irving.  Author's  revised  Edition.  In  one 
volume  I2mo.  Sunnyside  Edition,  cloth,  $2.25.  River- 
side Edition,  cloth,  $1.75.  People's  Edition,  $1.25. 


IRVING'S  GOLDSMITH.  Oliver  Goldsmith:  a  Biogra- 
phy. By  Washington  Irving.  In  one  volume.  Hunnyside 
Edition,  i2mo,  cloth,  $2.25.  Riverside  Edition,  i6mo, 
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graphies written  during  the  last  three  centuries." — Knickerbocker  Magazine. 

IRVING'S  GRANADA.  Chronicles  of  the  Conquest  of 
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"  It  has  superseded  all  further  necessity  for  poetry,  and,  unfortunately  for  me,  for 
history."— J^.  H.  Prescott. 

IRVING'S  KNICKERBOCKER.  A  History  of  New 
York  from  the  beginning  of  the  World  to  the  end  of  the 
Dutch  Dynasty,  etc.,  etc.  By  Diedrich  Knickerbocker.  In 
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extra,  $10. 

"The  most  excellently  jocose  ' History  of  New  York.' Our  sides  have 

been  absolutely  sore  with  laughing." — Sir  Walter  Scott. 

"  A  book  of  unwearying  pleasantry." — Edward  Everett. 


G.  P.   Putnam   &  Son.  13 

IRYJXG'S  MAHOMET.  Mahomet  and  his  Successors. 
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side  Edition,  cloth.  54.50.  Riverside  Edition,  f 3.50.  Peo- 
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"  But  for  gencrati-.ns  past  the  power  of  the  Crescent  has  been  vanmff,  and  its  glory 


IRVIXG'S  SALMAGUNDI.  Salmagundi  ;  or.  the  Whim- 
Whams  and  Opinions  of  Launcelot  Langstaff.  Esq.,  and 
Others.  By  William  Irving,  James  Kirke  Paulding,  and 
Washington  Irving.  In  one  volume  i2mo.  Sunnyside 
Edition,  cloth,  $2.25.  Riverside  Edition,  £1.75.  People's 
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IRVING'S  SKETCH-BOOK.  The  Sketch-Book  of  Geoffrey 
Crayon,  Gent.  The  Authors  revised  Edition.  In  one 
volume.  Sunnyside  Edition,  1 2mo,  cloth,  $2.25.  Riverside, 
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$1.50.  People's  Edition,  i6mo,  blue  cloth,  $1.25.  [This 
edition  is  used  as  a  School  Reader.] 

"  It  is  positively  beautiful." — Sir  Walter  Scott. 
"  This  exquisite  miscellany." — J.  G.  Lockhart. 

IRVING'S  SPANISH  PAPERS.  Hitherto  Unpublished 
or  Uncollected.  2  vols.,  with  portrait  from  Wilkie.  Sun- 
nyside Edition,  cloth,  $4.50  ;  half  calf,  $8.  National  Edition, 
2  vols.,  $5  ;  half  calf,  $9. 

"These  fascinating  legends  of  Spanish  history." — St.  Paul  Press. 

IRVING'S  TRAVELLER.  Tales  of  a  Traveller.  By 
Geoffrey  Crayon,  Gent.  Author's  revised  Edition.  In  one 
volume.  Sunnyside  Edition,  I2mo,  $2.25.  Riverside  Edi- 
tion, i6mo,  $1.75  ;  full  gilt,  $2.00.  People's  Edition,  $1.25. 

"  Has  always  been  one  of  the  most  popular  of  Irvine's  productions,  and  is  not 
destined  to  lose  the  place  it  so  soon  acquired  in  the  estimation  of  the  world. '—  Bos- 
ton Traveller. 


14  Publications  of 


IRVING'S  WOLFERT'S  ROOST.  Wolfert's  Roost  and 
other  Papers,  now  first  collected  by  Washington  Irving. 
In  one  volume  i2mo.  Sunnyside  Edition,  cloth,  $2.25. 
Riverside  Edition,  cloth,  $1.75.  People's  Edition,  $1.25. 

"The  papers  in  the  present  volume  are  among  his  latest  and  most  charming  pro- 
ductions."—  Chicago  Tribune. 

IRVING'S  WASHINGTON.  A  Life  of  George  Washing- 
ton, by  Washington  Irving.  With  numerous  illustrations. 
In  five  volumes.  Sunnyside  Edition,  121110,  cloth,  $11.25  ; 
half  calf,  gilt  or  antique,  $20.  Library  Edition,  8vo,  cloth, 
$15  ;  half  calf,  gilt  or  antique,  $25.  Illustrated  Edition, 
royal  8vo,  half  calf,  gilt,  $35  ;  full  morocco  extra,  $45. 
People's  Edition,  2  vols.,  fifty-two  plates,  half  morocco,  $14  ; 
full  mor.,  $18. 

"  I  cannot  hesitate  to  predict  for  him  a  deathless  renown He  whose 

works  were  the  delight  of  our  fathers  and  are  still  ours,  will  be  read  with  the  same 
pleasure  by  those  who  come  after  us." — William  Cullen  Bryant. 

"  Few,  very  few,  can  show  a  long  succession  of  volumes  so  pure,  so  graceful,  and 
so  varied  as  Mr.  Irving." — Miss  Mitford's  Recollections  of  a  Literary  Life. 

IRVING'S  LIFE  AND  LETTERS.  By  P.  M.  Irving. 
4  vols.,  I2mo,  cloth,  $9;  half  calf  extra,  $15. 

"The  most  delightful  of  biographies." 

The  Same.     Condensed  into  3  vols.     Knickerbocker 

Edition,  $7.50.     Sunnyside  Edition,  $5.25.     People's    Edi- 
tion, $3.75. 

IRVING'S  (Theo.)  FLORIDA.  The  History  of  De  Soto's 
Conquest  of  Florida.  By  Theodore  Irving,  LL.D.  A  New 
Edition,  i  vol.  I2mo.  Uniform  with  the  Sunnyside  Edi- 
tion of  Irving's  Works,  $2.25. 

"This  book  is  a  delightful  one  ....  in  style  ;  related  to  the  pure  and  graceful 
writing  of  the  author  of  the  '  Life  of  Columbus.'  " — London  Athenaeum. 

IRVING'S   ILLUSTRATED  WORKS— 

CHRISTMAS  IN  ENGLAND.     With  21  very  fine 

illustrations  from  the  Artist's  Edition  of  the  Sketch-Book. 

Small  folio,  cloth  extra,  $3.50  ;  morocco  extra,  $7. 


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